Trials and Tribulations
by NotYourTypicalEmily
Summary: Francis and Arthur had been friends since they were children, they were both the other's support and couldn't get by without the other. FrUk, Human AU, reviews are appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter One ~ Children's games

A boy sat in a field accompanied by another foreign boy just a year or two older than him. It was his secret hideaway that he visited when he grew tiresome of London's bustle and noise, his companion lay back, golden curls like a girls spread delicately in a halo around his head and his royal blue eyes shut tight. He better know how lucky he was, the boy had shown no one this place not even his brothers, he better feel privileged.

"Hey...Francis?" The eyes snapped open as the resting boy peered at the other inquisitively. The boy bit his lips and began to fiddle with his fingers uncertainly before opening his mouth as though he wanted to say something but then deciding against it and closing them again, he repeated this a few times until the resting boy couldn't help but chuckle,

"Don't do that Artie, you look like a goldfish," he sat up and balanced his weight on his elbows, "What's up?"

A flush crept along the boys cheeks and he scowled at his lap before finally blurting out, "Angus said that you won't want to speak to me anymore when you go into the big school, he said you'll find new friends and I should just stop talking to you before I embarrass you and…and…" The elder boy rolled his eyes, Artie's brothers were always winding him up and Angus was the most repetitive suspect when it came to him being upset. He gave a withering smile and ran his hand through his long hair before saying,

"Your brother doesn't know anything… I'll be your friend even when I'm in that school and we can still come by here, right? Artie, je vous promets." The younger blinked his emerald eyes in a rapid manner as though he couldn't comprehend the other's pretty simple words, even if half of them were in his native language that he had still not got around to learning.

"And… And you won't tell any of your new friends about here? Ever?"

"Of course, now calm down Artie," the boy led back again and closed his eyes, eager to feel heat soak his face, the other simply watched the older's eyelids twitch under the suns beams and feel more at ease, as though a burden had been lifted off his shoulders.

Francis Bonnefoy was the only child of a young wealthy French couple that had moved to England for a promotion his entrepreneur father had been offered, he lived in one of the upper scale penthouse apartment with his parents and his grandmother that he adored. Francis was an artist from an early age, a trait that his Mother and Grandmother were both eager to encourage despite the urges from his Father to follow in his footsteps and become infatuated with business. However, it was blatant from when Francis was a toddler that pitching sales ideas and dealing with statistics would not fulfill him, he needed to be painting or dancing or creating a culinary masterpiece in order to feel completely satisfied.

To his Mother's delight, he was born with angelic features and was destined to be a heartbreaker from the day he was born. His almond eyes were a rich and intense royal blue and his hair fell in soft blond waves that framed a chiseled face in an effortless perfection. He was their pride and joy and they had no reason to keep this a secret from anyone. Of course, he loved his parents very much, however, he had a compelling admiration for his Grandmother.

She was bedridden and forced to leave France to come live with them when there was no one left to take care of her, her English was very limited and she couldn't leave her room, however, she seemed to be able to turn any situation into a laughable one. She allowed Francis to lie on the bottom of her bed and vent to his hearts content, no matter how trivial the subject may be, she would listen feigning intention and give her undivided attention before offering advice or simply sympathy.

Arthur Kirkland was the youngest child of a young single Mother of three children and one adopted child who had lived in London all his life in a simple house on a scruffy council estate with his four siblings and ever exhausted Mother. She had been 'messed around' when she was younger and resulted with three sons from three different Fathers from three different countries. Angus, the eldest one who hailed from Scotland, Gareth the middle child from Wales, Eoghan the child she adopted from Northern Ireland and then Arthur who was born and raised in London. Arthur had always been cynical and hot tempered with a crushing self- confidence issue that excessively tired him out. His Mother tried her hardest with the four boys who all proved to be a handful in some way or another, she was all the boys had, no Uncles, Aunties, Grandparents visited them or wanted anything to do with them.

Like his blood brothers, he was born with a heavy brow and stunning wide green eyes that mirrored their Mother's, he had unruly cropped blond hair that scruffily stood out at odd angles, he was lean and had a pale complexion. They were all interesting to look at but in no means were they typically attractive, he had fluid movements that made him impelling to watch and his expression was always difficult to read. Most of the time he brooded over what his brothers did or said, although he loved every member of his family unconditionally and imperatively he felt closer to his elder brother Gareth than he did his own Mother.

Although Angus was the eldest, Gareth had taken it upon himself to act as the responsible father figure that the boys lacked and forbade any of his siblings to bother their Mother. He was firm, hardworking and took no crap. He liked all his brothers secretly though even if they teased him mercilessly. Angus was quick to jump to his aid if there were other people giving him a hard time and Eoghan sat and listened if he was stressed out. There was nothing much that Arthur could offer in return other than not complain if there wasn't clean clothes waiting for him every morning or his Mother wasn't waiting for him after school.

"Artie? Are you there?"

Arthur held his breath and pinched himself, the sharp pain hit him quickly and he let out a reassured sigh before smiling inwardly. He had hoped he wasn't going to be alone, his brothers had collected him from his school gate and he dashed home in a hurry, he quickly wolfing down the sandwich Gareth had made him and hurriedly changed clothes from his dirtied uniform before promptly leaving his brothers with a simple excuse that he was going to meet a friend and left them no time to retaliate before he was out of their sight.

"Yeah, over here."

A head full of golden hair turned and Francis grinned as his eyes fell on the lone boy. Arthur couldn't help but note he adorned his new school uniform, the tie and the shirt didn't suit him, he looked too uneasy in it, Francis was more suited to free flowing clothes, something he could move around freely in. The French boy noticed Arthur looking warily at him, throwing his head back he reeled in laughter, his hands went up to his tie and in a quick and fluid movement he whipped it off. Still chuckling, he grinned at Arthur and said,

"I know right… You should have seen them all, Artie, we all look so silly," he looked better now, more like Francis. Arthur gave a small smile before murmuring,

"Did you make any new friends?" This was a delicate topic, Francis knew that, he would have to tread carefully in order not to upset his best friend but he didn't want to lie. Instead, he vaguely settled on,

"Well… There were these two other boys in my form who I kind of hung around with… Enough about my boring school, how was everything at your school?"

"Angus said he saw you wandering around with them," Arthur sounded casual but it was obvious he was anxious to hear about these 'new friends', about how they got on and if Francis had more fun with them than he did with Arthur.

"Yeah they're okay," Francis gave a crooked grin as the other's face fell almost immediately, "But they were really boring compared to you."

Arthur almost let out a sigh or relief but refrained from doing so, perhaps the other boy was simply being tactful as to not hurt his feelings. All Arthur was certain about was that he had been looking forward to this part of the day all throughout lessons, it felt empty without Francis at school, his new teacher had already yelled at him for not paying attention in class and the other kids were dull, unable to light up the place like Francis could.

"So...How was your day, Artie?"

**((A/N: THIS COULD BE THE START OF SOMETHING NEWWWW~**

**Ahem. Anyway. I had this idea in the car when I was going to work with my Mam and it'd been bugging me ever since, I decided that if I didn't write it down then it would eventually turn to brain-crack and then just… go away which I didn't want to happen. All in all, I'm quite happy with how this turned out but there's more to come, I promise! If there are any criticisms then I'd be grateful for the feedback, thank you!))**


	2. Chapter 2

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter Two – Adjusting

He fidgeted; his bag that had been nearly empty at the start of the day was now full to the brim with books and homework. It wasn't like he had been assigned large essays, most of it was just going over what they had learned in the classes he had that day, simple year seven type homework. His first day wasn't really remotely interesting. He had been put in a form, given a planner, gone to classes and ate his lunch. He had wanted to go and find Francis to hang around with at lunchtime but instead settled for lingering around Eoghan for a little while before retiring to his form room to eat. For some reason there was a nagging sensation in his gut that made him think that he would be bothering the other boy, he was afraid that he would go and find his best friend and be shunned in turn for the two other friends Francis had grown closer to throughout the year. Angus had sped off with his group of friends, all of them animatedly complaining about their teachers and Eoghan had trailed after them like an eager puppy, Gareth nodded goodbye to his own friends and held back as he felt obligated to see that his little brother got home safe. The best thing about his Welsh brother was that he didn't pry, if he had been walking with Angus for example then he would be drilled about every detail of his day and his responses would usually be retaliated by the Scottish boy's biting sarcasm.

"Artie! Hold on a minute!"

The two stopped in their tracks and turned to see a blond head bob up and down as a panting figure quickly rushed over, waving it's hand violently in the air. Once he noticed who it was, Arthur grinned and waved back before the running boy skidded to a halt, hunching over he began to pant and wheeze indicating that he had been running after them for quite some time. He looked up and grinned wryly,

"I looked for you. Where were you hiding, sourcils?" Arthur had to bite back the wince at the nickname Francis had given him for the sole purpose of poking fun at the heavy brows he and his brothers had inherited from their Mother whom had plucked them into thin, precise lines and spent a lot of time examining them to make sure no stray hairs had dared to pop up. Putting that aside, Francis had looked for him, it meant he wanted to see him too, right? In a bitter way, it made him feel glad that his friend had wondered where he was, it just showed that all of his inward anxieties were proved wrong. Arthur opened his mouth to intervene but was cut short by a stern voice laced in a melodic accent emanating from above,

"Arthur, Mam'll tear her hair out if you're not there when she gets home, no gallivanting off today, okay?" Francis looked up and had to bite back a stammer. He had only met the Kirkland brothers in the rare and fleeting moments that they crossed paths in schools and then they would only nod awkwardly and maybe mumble a hello in order to be polite. Up close, the elder brother was a lot more intimidating than Francis had remembered him and for some reason Gareth still adorned his accent from the country he had not lived in since he was merely a toddler. Arthur rolled his eyes, however, and grinned slightly at Francis,

"Yeah he's right… I should be getting home, maybe we can meet up tomorrow or something?" The French boy was not used to getting blown off and he made his displeasure at the situation perfectly clear on his face, he bit his lip and looked up for a moment before decisively nodding,

"Yes. I'll come and get you and we'll walk together in the morning," he beamed before turning on his heel and setting off in the opposite direction before either of the Kirkland brothers could object or even say anything. Arthur gaped for a little while before snapping his mouth shut and carrying onwards, silently forbidding his elder brother to say anything to him about his friend.

.||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

"How was school, darling?" Francis had only just stepped through the door but his Mother's face had already appeared behind him, making him jump for a moment and then chuckle at her forwardness. Unlike most near fourteen year old boys, he was happy to spend time talking with him Mother and decided to humor her. He dumped his bag and grinned broadly, knowing that she'd want to know every little thing. She began to question him about the teachers he had this year, how Gilbert and Antonio were and simple trivial things along those lines. It was only until she asked him to go up and give his Grandmother her afternoon tea did he perk up about talking.

She sat up as he entered and plastered a welcoming smile over her creased face, her blue eyes that had dulled with age followed him as he delicately let it down on her bedside table and then apprehensively sit on the edge of her bed. The woman had an undying love for her Grandson; it was different to the compassion she held for her daughter, she felt as though she always had to be there for him to fall back on even if she was confined to her bed. She didn't even have to ask about school, he had already started talking about it.

"Arthur started today," her eyebrows inched up her forehead, she had never met Francis' friend Arthur but having heard a great deal about him she felt as though she knew him and found herself occasionally fretting over the younger boys wellbeing.

"How did he like it?" her voice was nothing more than a rasp coated in a thick French accent nowadays, it wasn't quite the comforting tone that most people would have preferred but Francis liked the sound of it, like somehow the sound of her voice made her seem ultimately more worldly wise. He gave a casual shrug and began to fiddle with the embroidery on her satin bed-sheets, even though she was getting increasingly older, he was fond of the way that she insisted that even minor details, such as her bedding, was much too glamorous for a woman of her age.

"I'm not really sure…I didn't see him that much. But I'm going to walk to school with him tomorrow so we can talk more."

"All that way?" her tone was more teasing than genuine concern, her Grandson disliked long walks when accompanied, he had made this pet peeve well known and claimed that it made him feel as though he needed to entertain whomever was with him. Francis chuckled before giving another shrug,

"It's Arthur though… We always find things to talk about." She gave a weary smile before tilting her head to the side in contemplation, although the woman was a thorough believer in 'stiff upper lip', Francis found himself being able to read her like a book, he blinked his eyes at her expectantly. His Grandmother shook her head and started to chuckle,

"What _is_ your fascination with that boy, mon cher?" he cocked a brow, not sure what the woman was meant to imply by the sentence, she hadn't met Arthur before so why would she have any reason to question their friendship? Had he made Arthur sound like something he wasn't? Before Francis got the chance to retaliate and air his confusions, she ceased chuckling and patted an empty space beside her and timidly he made his way further up the bed, in a swift motion she encased his gentle 'Artist' hands with her creased claw-like ones. Francis gazed at the hold apprehensively before letting his eyes flicker back to look at his Grandmother. In her prime, she was one of the sexiest women known to live in France, age had not treated her unkindly per se, but he knew how difficult it was for her to look in the mirror and no longer see the sophisticated starlet she once was and instead peer at an aged face that she had dreaded looking upon since she was a child. Her eyes had long ago fogged over with age but the suave blue still shone but with certain wisdom she had gained throughout her years,

"You don't talk about your other friends like you do with your Arthur," Francis shrugged. He liked Gilbert and Antonio, the three of them instantly clicked when they were put into the same form two years prior and they were now a close-knit group, a trio of some sorts. He liked to see them happy and liked to make them laugh, he would be there for support and knew that if he needed it then they would help him too. Even so, it was much easier to feel at ease with Arthur and relaxing wasn't difficult with him, not to mention, it was also a genuinely happy break to hang around with his younger companion and not have to keep a conversation going solely driven by sex.

"I've known him longer I guess," Francis gave his elder's fragile hand a tender squeeze before abrasively standing straight and sashaying for the exit, he turned and let a crooked smile grace his face, "I'm going to get some coffee and biscuits to celebrate my survival of the first day back at school, are you going to join me?"

Her face lit up and a trail of happy little giggles emanated from her lips, "Why, of course, as is tradition."

Francis chuckled and exited swiftly; once he was outside the door he yelled his promises not to be long before making his way downstairs timidly. Perhaps he spoke about Arthur too much? He couldn't help but snigger at the though of his Grandmother worrying about an unhealthy obsession he didn't have with the small English boy. He was simply a friend that he had known for a long time and grown close to.

That was it.

.||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

His brothers had only just awaked when Francis had come around to get him. Arthur knew the French boy too well and woke up early so that he was ready for the ungodly hour he would probably be collected from. Angus scowled as he led the younger blond into the living room, his green eyes were rimmed with dark circles and his skin was pastier than normal, Arthur could only assume his elder brother was up late again playing games online, judging from Eoghan's disgruntled look, Arthur expected he hadn't been being quiet over it since the Irish boy shared a room with him. Perhaps Arthur should have been tired himself, but he found himself feeling strangely fulfilled by the prospect that he got himself up and dressed so early, he had even gotten to say goodbye to their Mother as she left for work. Francis gave a grin and nodded at each brother in turn, immediately Eoghan pounced on him since he was in the same year and bombarded him with questions, most of them seemed trivial but one of them couldn't help but play at Arthur's earlobes, something about a bad touch trio, whatever that was. He brushed it off quickly, certain that it would only irritate Francis if he inquired further from his brother's questions.

Angus groaned before raking a hand through his ginger hair and rolling his eyes before grimacing, "Sorry mate, I don't mean to rush you but if you're here to walk with Arthur then can you just take him and go, my tired head can't stand any more of Eoghan's squeal." Francis bowed his head slightly before giving a broad grin and ignoring the Irish boy's cries and retorts before saying with a voice booming with confidence,

"We'll head off now."

"He hasn't had breakfast," a melodic accent boomed from the kitchen, Angus let out a growl before fumbling in his trouser pocket before thrusting a crinkled note at the French boy and completely ignoring his younger brother whom stood expectantly.

"Here, buy him something nice."

The weather outside was fine, not too cold nor too warm, Arthur couldn't help but notice how odd Francis looked whilst walking down the council estate the younger lived in, he seemed too posh or too elegant to be seen in such a shabby area, it was only until they got to the high street did Arthur feel as though he was able to look at the other boy without laughing at how absurd he looked. They didn't go into a fancy café like Arthur had imagined Francis would have pulled him into but instead quickly pulled into a renowned baker shop and ate them on their way to school. Francis had joked about Arthur's brothers, they had bickered and they got to school, it was all blissfully relaxed and casual. When they got to the gates, Arthur expected his companion to immediately stroll away and find his other friends; instead, he grinned and perched on a wall close to the front so that they didn't need to walk so long.

"So have you made any new friends, Artie?" the younger blinked, he hadn't expected his friend to want to continue to talk to him but fought to keep his expression under control. He grinned before running a hand briefly through his short elfin like blond hair,

"I haven't spoke to them yet, there was no one that was particularly interesting if I'm perfectly honest…" Francis started to laugh, throwing his head back and showing his perfect white teeth off, "You won't make any friends with that attitude, and you'll just be the kid in the corner eating his jam sandwiches alone."

Arthur raised a brow and retorted, Francis retaliated… It was all standard normal, nothing out of the ordinary nor nothing particularly exciting.

Perhaps that was why it was so comforting.

**((A/N: I just noticed a lot of people might not get the jam sandwiches bit. It's a joke around here, if you're on your own when people are just mingling and socialising and doing normal people stuff, you get called the jam sandwiches kid. Perhaps it's just a Welsh thing, I'm not quite sure ^^''' ))**


	3. Chapter 3

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter Three ~ First Meetings

Gilbert, Antonio and Francis. In only their first year, they had made themselves known at school, now they were back and ready to roll on for another year. Gilbert was remarked as the leader, he had once been bullied for his startling albino appearance and in result of this he had created a hard outer shell and had a venomous tongue, he acted as though anything said to him rolled off his back and was completely unaffected by harsh words anymore, this meant that he was the envy of most boys in his year, the fact he had the nerve to talk back to older boys and then joke around like they had known each other for most of their lives was admirable.

Antonio was bottom-ranked and really just there for the ride, he was gentle and soft-spoken compared to the other two boys, he was quirky and had an outdated look on the world for the most part. He often found himself musing aloud before quickly biting his lip and apologizing to whoever was listening, around the other two, he was a lot more boisterous but for whatever reason felt as though it was his responsibility to clean up whatever mess his friends had left on his warpath whilst unleashing his Spanish charm on whoever he needed to forgive them for their childish tirades.

Maybe it was the fact they were remarkably beautiful in their own ways, the fact they were effortlessly persuasive without even seeming like they wanted to be or that they had a magnetism that made people want to be near them, be apart of their jokes and fun that attracted them to each other the first day of their first year. They were well known, people who were older called them cute, others around the same age or younger would envy them.

Arthur never understood why Francis didn't seem to want him to meet his friends. He had heard rumors and was genuinely slightly intimidated by their appearance but more than anything, he was curious. He _wanted_ to meet them, Eoghan often made a big show about them at home and then attempted to make an impression on Francis when he came round to get Arthur which had now become a daily occurrence, he wanted to see why everyone was so infatuated with them and how they had earned the name 'the bad touch trio.'

It was quickly approaching Christmas and Arthur grew weary, when he went to hang around with Francis, his long time friend would hurry him away from Antonio and Gilbert, insisting that it would be 'much more interesting' to go and slope off by themselves. On their early morning journey to school, Arthur finally decided to adamantly suggest that he met the two. He thought it over in his head all the night before, mentally preparing himself for any scenario that could play out, although, most of the ones he thought of were melodramatic and in fact not how it turned out at all.

"When can I meet Antonio and Gilbert?" he implored, tilting his head to the side slightly with his heavy brow furrowed, Francis had acted like he hadn't heard him for a little while and went on talking about a completely different subject until Arthur snappily interjected,

"When can I meet Antonio and Gilbert?" he repeated firmly. Francis felt his cheeks grow warm but painted a, slightly awkward to say the least, smile on his face and ran a hand through his overgrown golden waves that now just brushed his cheekbones.

"I don't think they're your er…'type' of people, sourcils, it'd be very boring for you, honestly." Arthur shook his head and gave an impish grin before murmuring a,

"What? You're afraid I'd embarrass you or something?" Francis' face was now a picture, he began to stammer defensively before promptly exclaiming a no and ranting on about how he was insulted that his companion would think him so shallow or something along those lines, admittedly, Arthur wasn't really listening, he already knew that he'd soon get what he wanted.

"So then let me meet them," Francis stopped in his tracks before giving a deflated sigh and a husky chuckle,

"Well don't say I didn't warn you."

.||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

Just as planned, Arthur met Francis outside of the canteen as he usually would if they had planned to meet up at a break and was finally led over to a reserved corner of the yard that the bad touch trio was reported to dwell. It felt as though he was going to be tossed into the lion's den after being rubbed head to toe in enticing scents and he felt a few people's eyes follow him as he strode over next to Francis. He gulped slightly as the two came into sight, it was like when a normal person meets a celebrity and gets their tongue tied by the fact they are actually real. Francis' face lit up in a boyish fashion as he grinned at the two, in turn, they grinned back before jeering at him to hurry over. Their pace quickened and soon enough Arthur found himself opposite the two other infamous members of the trio.

Gilbert raised a brow, "Who's this?" his lips were upturned into a little smirk and his words rang out with a snigger, his eyes sparkled in a way that made Arthur feel uneasy, though, the younger boy tried very hard not to look at them in case the Albino though he was staring because of their unusual colouring. Francis grinned back at the other's expression.

"Arthur, known him since we were little, he's in the year below and…"

"Well it's about damn time, you go on about the kid all the time, I was expecting some god damn martyr unicorn with rainbows flying out of his ass. Nice to meet you kid, I'm the awesome Gilbert, though, you probably already know that." Arthur uncomfortably mumbled a hello, perhaps Francis was right, if Gilbert was anything to go by then he was pretty sure he wouldn't get along with Antonio either. He bit his lip nervously and thought about ways he could escape, however, it seemed it was too little too late as Antonio then began to pry at him.

"Ignore him, I'm Antonio," the Spaniard gave a cheeky grin before looking back at Francis with a wink, "He's shy, why bring him over today of all days?" Francis said nothing but gave a dry chuckle and leant against the wall.

"What's today?" Arthur managed, his tone sounding more cynical than he wanted it to, Gilbert let out a string of large boisterous laughs before nudging the younger in the ribs with a little more force than needed, making Arthur have to bite back a wince and fight his hand that began inching closer to rub at his side.

"It's Gym day, means I get to see some awesome short action, 'specially since the girls will have to come with us today since they're teacher's not in. Honestly guys, some of the girls hit puberty like a ton of bricks over the summer and now they don't look half bad in some little shorts," his face crinkled slightly and he rolled his eyes, "Well…Except for Liz, she's so butch I wouldn't be able to tell she was a girl if she had all that hair chopped off."

Arthur blinked over and looked at Francis who was laughing along, they never really spoke about girls but now he seemed keen to get in on the 'awesome short action', it was as if he was different around these two, they brought out his 'fun' streak, made him a whole lot more at ease and made him laugh. It was a good thing that Francis had new friends that he could chill out with, it was good. But Arthur couldn't help but feel unsettled by it.

.||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

"I swear to God boys, if Mum comes home and sees this mess she will flip and then Gareth'll get angry and once again I'll get blamed so I propose you both get your lazy arses off the sofa and help me freaking…do whatever this is!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and was on his feet quickly, unsure if he really wanted to face the wrath of his elder brother especially now since the Scottish adolescent was becoming rapidly more confused over the concept of dusting, Eoghan gave a groan and let his head loll backwards slightly before murmuring something about how it was a 'woman's job' but promptly shut his mouth when their eldest brother glared at them with fierce irritation. Each of them took on individual jobs, Angus began to wave the duster around sloppily after Gareth came in and demonstrated how to do it, Eoghan took charge of cleaning up wrappers of junk food the boys had lazily dropped on the floor only a few moments previous and Arthur began straightening up the sofa cushions that had been rumpled by the boys fidgeting.

"Oi, what's this you were loitering around the three little pervs in Eoghan's year, Artie?" Angus' face was a pure picture of concentration, his lips were only just ajar and his brow was furrowed as he dusted around some odd ornaments their Mother had gathered throughout the years, most of them were simple knick-knacks but occasionally you would come across something truly unusual that made you blink and question whether it could really be called an ornament at all. "I mean, I can tolerate Francis, even if he is French and y'know, despite his obvious homosexuality, he seems like an average guy, someone you could get along with easily or whatever. But the Albino and the Ricky Martin look-a-like set my teeth on edge, they seem like real cocky pricks if I'm completely honest with you."

Arthur didn't even attempt to add up the amount of offensive content in what his brother had just said, instead, he simply shrugged and continued with his work. Eoghan blinked rapidly, his mouth forming an 'o' shape and his brow raised halfway up his forehead, the Irish boy tried painfully hard to amount to his elder brothers, Angus was well known for being loud and boisterous during lessons but then being able to charm his teachers into thinking he was a 'golden boy' and could do no wrong and Gareth had gained infamy by being an excellent scholar and subtle cheeky flirt. Ever since they were young, Eoghan had felt the need to prove himself to his elder brothers and to everyone else that he could fit in with them, Arthur supposed it was something to do with the fact he was adopted by their Mother for reasons she still had yet to clarify. Hearing that his younger brother had been mingling with the 'cool kids' in his year before he got the chance was obviously irritating him as he quickly picked up the remainder of the packets strewn around the room and excused himself hastily to go throw them in the bin and then made his way up to his room, Arthur shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether or not to go after his brother. He didn't have enough time to do anything, however, as Gareth popped his head out of the kitchen with a furrowed brow and a distressed look mapped across his face.

"I'm not sure I'd really want you hanging around with those three, not when they're together anyway… "

"I know, they can be real cocky pricks when they…"

"Not that," Gareth glowered at Angus despairingly before saying through gritted teeth, "I'm not sure they're the best company."

Arthur shrugged and ran a hand through his hair uncertainly, "Francis likes them…They can't be that bad."

.||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

"Hello Francis, do you mind me asking why you're loitering outside my door instead of barging inside as you always do?" Francis gulped and silently cursed the woman's intuition or his incapability of being able to stand quietly, he took a breath before opening the door and grinning timidly, the elderly woman looked up from her book expectantly and Francis swore he saw her eyes narrow with a bemused smile. She patted an empty space beside her and he fully let himself in before closing the door behind him, with small, tentative steps he made his way to the woman's bed and then slowly lowered himself so he was perched beside her. She brushed a strand of silver hair out of her face and then stroked his chiseled cheek tenderly, Francis fidgeted slightly before shaking his head and chuckling,

"Sorry." The elder laughed and ruffled his waved hair, smiling a little as she did so.

"Something's troubling you, what's wrong?" he shook his head and rolled his eyes,

"No, no…I'm just being a bit stupid, never mind, I'll leave you to read," as he went to get up her hand went out and grasped at his bony wrist and with a fluid movement, if anyone else had done it, he would have felt uncomfortable and possibly threatened but she lifted her head and smiled at him with an impish mischievousness that was too young for her face. He grinned back and let himself sit down next to her, in a matter of moments he was letting everything go and telling her exactly what was playing on his mind and she was either very polite and feigned interest or was actually holding onto his every word.

"It's not like I don't like him hanging around me but it's different with those two, I mean…I don't want to let how I am with them get in the way of me and Arthur speaking, if that makes sense." She started to giggle,

"You mean because you turn into a slut when you're around them, no?" Francis sighed before rolling his eyes at the woman's vulgar language, he supposed he should have been shocked but after so many years of living with her he had become rather accustomed to the fact she utterly refused to be like any other elderly woman. He began to chuckle and shrugged,

"I guess so."

**((A/N: I just wanted to take the time out to say thanks to everyone who's favourited and put this story on alert, it really made me happy to see people liked this since it's an idea that's been playing on my mind a lot lately ^^ I also kind of freaked out because I got my first review~! Thanks for reading and I'm sorry this chapter isn't the best but there will be more interesting chapters to come, promise!)) **


	4. Chapter 4

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter Four ~ Confusing Matters

Finally the words 'leave me alone I'm revising' were no longer the most frequently uttered in the Kirkland household. Summer had drawn in, exams and other serious sounding events had happened school but being a year seven, Arthur paid little to no attention to it, he was just happy he had the first year of school done and dusted as quickly and as painlessly as possible. However, due to the fact Angus had just sat his final exams it meant that he found himself outside of the house most of the time before they finished, it was no bother but it just felt slightly unnatural if one day he stayed in, he started to get restless and easily agitated by the prospect of having to spend a day inside which meant he dismayed hopelessly if by chance it started to rain and he was ushered inside by Gareth. He had managed to breeze past the first year with hardly any trouble at all, there was no reason for him to be unhappy considering a lot of people his age got tormented or bullied every day, but he couldn't help but feel uneasy. His eyes drooped slightly as he hopelessly scanned his book, trying to absorb the text but to no avail. His mind was elsewhere, more pointedly, his mind was on Francis. They had known each other for so long, Arthur sort of assumed that he knew mostly everything about him, he knew his fears, his goals, his likes and his dislikes but for some reason he couldn't get his head around how he missed something so blatantly obvious.

Maybe Francis had some sort of personality disorder? Whenever he was with Arthur he would act exactly in the same manner he had acted like since they were small, teasing him mercilessly but then speaking earnestly about subjects he was passionate about. Nonetheless, when Francis was around Gilbert and Antonio he turned to be the most charismatic tart he had met, winking and making lewd suggestions to girls and even sometimes going as far to cheekily flirt with some of the toughest closed-minded boys that usually aimed a few punches at him afterwards. Arthur started to become more and more infuriated with 'this' Francis, why couldn't he just act like he always did? Agitatedly, Arthur chucked his book down, groaned before turning onto his back, his chest heaving with annoyance. Before he had a chance to melodramatically sigh and internally whine about his aggravation with the French boy, Eoghan was hovering over him, his face holding the same anxious expression it usually did. His brother grinned at the book that had been strewn across the bed lazily before returning his gaze to look at Arthur,

"I'm giving you a heads up, Mum's not in a good mood, I'd get out of here quickly before she starts crying or something." Arthur was quick on his feet and soon enough he was lacing up his shoes, it was too much bother to even try and remain calm when his Mother was upset, the others had the knack of being able to calm her down so she was soon back to her usual self but Arthur found himself feeling impatient and snappy with her, he gave his elder brother a small smile of appreciation before flinging himself downstairs and outside the door, ignoring Gareth's yell pursuing his curfew. He slowed down when his feet hit the pavement and ran a hand through his hair in attempt to look casual, his estate was littered with scruffy and intimidating looking characters, a few of them jeered in his direction but he easily shook it off, knowing that he could look or act in any way he liked and they would still stare and yell at him.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans before waltzing over to the well-off part of the city, nervously, he rapped his knuckles on the all too familiar door and quickly combed his untamable hair with his fingers to try and make himself look slightly more presentable, even though he knew the time was a wasted effort anyway. Slowly the door opened and a well made up face peeked through the gap and beautiful royal blue eyes peered at him before crinkling with a smile, he couldn't help but give a small smile back as the door opened fully revealing the ever-glamorous Mrs. Bonnefoy. Her face was too young for her age, she had a few creases in her forehead and around her lips but other than that she seemed much too young to have a teenage boy who was nearing to turning fourteen. Upon further inspection, Arthur noticed she was wearing an apron and her usually impeccably styled blonde waves was pulled back into a high ponytail and her face was dabbled with spots of what he guessed was flour.

"Arthur!" her voice trilled, "Lovely to see you, Francis is just upstairs with his Nana right now but I'm sure he'd like to see you too." She opened the door wider and nodded at him to come in, apprehensively he let himself inside and she shut the door behind them before making her way up the passage, he followed her feeling oddly out of place next to the neat skirting board and designer pieces of furniture. A sweet aroma hit him intoxicatingly. He inhaled before giving her a half-hearted smile,

"Cooking?" he inquired, she started to laugh, throwing her head back so that her ponytail petted the tops of her shoulders and her pearly white teeth were on full show.

"Attempting to, you'd think that because Francis and his Nana are such good cooks, I would be able to cook too. However, I like to stick to my baking since it's pretty straight forward and there's not much chance that I'll kill anyone with food poisoning," Arthur sniggered, relating with her slightly since the only people who could really cook was Gareth and Eoghan, his Mother, Angus and him were all insanely terrible at it, only managing to make cereal and even then creating havoc in the kitchen. Mrs. Bonnefoy leant over the banister before yelling up the stairs,

"Francis! Your Arthur is here, sweetheart!" He bit his tongue and refrained from objecting to the phrase 'your Arthur', knowing that the woman only meant well, he didn't like being referred to as anyone's anything. His eyes flickered as he heard a door shut slowly but surely and Francis' footsteps dash across the passage and down the stairs, he smiled gently and nodded,

"Sourcils, you don't usually come and get me," he grinned and swaggered over to the younger before ruffling his already unkempt hair, Arthur ignored it politely before rolling his eyes and cheekily grinning and nudging his companion,

"Didn't want you to worry pretty little head about it, I thought we could go wander around for a bit," Francis nodded and smiled at his Mother,

"S'it okay if I go out with Sourcils, Maman?" She smiled again before nodding,

"So long as you stop calling poor Arthur that awful name and are back in time for dinner, you know what your Father's like with mealtimes and I've been attempting to make dessert," her smile turned proud and her younger son tilted his head back to laugh just the way she had only a few moments earlier when she was alone with Arthur before bringing his head back to look her in the eye, his Mother was of small stature and Francis had become more lean over the past year so it wasn't hard to believe that he was now taller than her, he wiped her cheek before chuckling again,

"That explains why you have flour all over you, perhaps you should go back to France for a little while, you've lived in London for so long that you've started to cook as bad as the English." Before Arthur had the chance to yell back, Francis who seemed all too eager to get out of the house was hurrying him out of the door, the two walked aimlessly for a while until Arthur uncertainly murmured a, "Can we go to the field?"

Francis stopped for a brief second, they hadn't been there since the summer two years ago in which Francis was nervously anticipating going into year seven and Arthur fussed over how much they'd be able to talk. However, he smiled and nodded eagerly.

"Sure… Of-of course, sourcils."

.||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

Every day was now spent at the field, some days they would simply sit there and say nothing, other days they would be lucky if they got a few seconds of silence, once or twice Arthur brought a book and read it whilst lazily laying on the grass or Francis would bring his iPod and play classic piano pieces for them both to listen to. Occasionally, Arthur would close his eyes and, seemingly overwhelmed by the break of sunlight that was so rare in dreary England, would dose of for a while and Francis would just sit and watch him sleep.

It was confusing. Francis found himself getting more and more attached to Arthur, he found himself impatiently waiting for the next day to come whilst he lay in bed so he could finally see him again, when his younger companion wasn't watching, Francis would steal a glance at him and find his chest tighten. Of course, he had known from a very young age that he was attracted to both genders even though he had kept it secretly to himself but never once had he looked at another male and feel so protective? Affectionate? Caring? He couldn't find the word to describe his feelings, all he knew was that he was very confused and couldn't help but slightly resent Arthur for making him think so hard about it. Sometimes he got increasingly annoyed and seriously considered lashing out, but then he would catch a glimpse of the younger doing something and looking so naturally perfect whilst doing it. For example, simply reading, laughing, dosing, smiling, grimacing… things that were perfectly normal would look so gentle and photogenic when it was on Arthur's face.

The next school year was drawing in close, soon they wouldn't have every day to spend together simply lazing around, Francis felt his chest tighten again and his eyes droop whilst thinking about it. He looked over at Arthur whom had fallen asleep, his lips slightly ajar and his brow furrowed, the sky had turned a warm and orange colour as the sun began to set, Francis contemplated shaking him awake but it was too sweet a moment to disrupt. Instead he settled on ruffling the younger's hair and watching it flop over his forehead gently before picking up the book and tucking it under his arm. It was such a shame to disturb him, but eventually Francis shook him awake gently. Arthur's eyes blinked rapidly and he gave a little groan before cursing under his breath, he attempted to stagger to his feet but couldn't find his balance, Francis put his arm around the other's waist to steady him and helped him sluggishly walk home, now and again, Arthur's head would loll on Francis' shoulder, as the got closer to the estate, Arthur pulled away and smiled sheepishly.

"I don't … I mean…The guys on the estate might…Er…" Francis grinned and patted Arthur's head,

"Night night, sourcils, try not to fall asleep on your way to your place," with that he turned around and started to walk back home, leaving Arthur stood there sniggering,

"Night Frog."


	5. Chapter 5

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 5 ~ Feeling as though I am all grown up

Why had he agreed?

It wasn't like one of those house parties you saw in clichéd teenage films, the house wasn't bursting to the brim with rowdy people and blaring music with people passed out on the floor and others having sex in dark corners of the room. It was tame, there were only ten or so people there, all of them gathered around in the box-like living room and drinking heartily. At first, Arthur had refused the drink, determined to act his age unlike the idiots he had surrounded himself with, but in only a matter of moments he found himself knocking back the substance like the rest of them and acting like a complete dunce alongside the rest of them. His eyelids had already started to feel heavy, he glanced desperately over at Eoghan but to his dismay his elder brother was still wide-awake and laughing along at some joke another boy had said. Rolling his eyes, he let his body relax slightly and himself leaning on Francis' shoulder but thought nothing of it. There were people sat in other's laps, some were kissing but the way Arthur saw it was that he was drunk, tired and Francis made a very, very good pillow for a little kid who shouldn't have even come anyway. It was Francis' fault he was here anyway. The French boy was the one who _asked_ him to attend, he had every right to rest on him and it wasn't like he meant anything by it anyway, he wasn't like some of the girls who had attended.

Antonio looked up through his dark eyelashes to stare at his friend and gave a little wink before nodding at Arthur, Francis, who wasn't even remotely tipsy, simply rolled his eyes and childishly poked out his tongue. The Spaniard smiled before returning his attention to the girl he had tucked under his arm and then patting the boy on his other side gently on his head. Though, that was another thing Arthur did not understand about the scenario. Boys seemed to be happy to be kissing anyone, even if that meant they were kissing other boys, if the guys on his estate was here they'd be blowing their tops and calling everyone in the room something along the lines of 'pufter fags, ennit blad.' The same applied for girls. At first it scared him but he slowly became more accepting of it, though when a boy had his arm around his brother he did feel some bile come up in his throat but he just blamed it on the fact it was _Eoghan_.

Gilbert was sat on the sofa with a girl perched precariously on his lap, he let out a stream of little and sharp giggles and rested his head on the girls shoulder, "If Luddy could see me now, he'd be so proud of his big Bruder, yes?" No one answered him but instead carried on doing whatever they were up to without acknowledging the albino had even spoke. Arthur started to regret his decision to show up, they were older than him, either in Francis and his brother's year or in the year above them. He felt small and inferior, unable to keep up with their crude conversations and not wanting to join in any groping sessions, especially if it meant being paired with another boy. He was vaguely away of Antonio's gentle voice addressing his elder brother and Eoghan replying with a chuckle before continuing to talk to the girl on his side.

"I'll take him home," Arthur's eyes fluttered. Oh, they must have been talking about him. Usually he would have reacted brashly but he felt too tired to do anything but sit there with his head resting on Francis. His pillow nudged him gently before getting to his feet and extending a hand,

"Come on, sourcils," Arthur looked at the hand before reluctantly taking it and letting himself get hauled up by his companion. Eoghan waved, his face pulled into a daft smile as he cheered his goodbyes, and it was obvious that his elder brother was marginally more intoxicated than Arthur. Antonio smiled and started speaking to Arthur, although his eyes were on Francis the whole time,

"Make sure he doesn't take you past any type of alleyway, Arthur. Remember, stranger danger is key, okay?" Francis let out an ironic bark of a laugh before playfully aiming a miniscule kick to his friends shins. Arthur mumbled groggily and lolled against his companion before being led outside where the cold air hit his intoxicated body harshly. His eyes widened and his teeth began to chatter, the French boy sighed before removing his jacket and draping it over the other's shuddering shoulders before smiling warmly,

"Better?" Arthur nodded half-heartedly and the two walked home in silence, mainly because Arthur felt incompetent and doubted he could even string together a remotely intelligible sentence at that moment. The lamplight of the estate greeted them with a cold, blaring shine. Francis stopped suddenly, causing Arthur to jerk and also come to a halt. The elder bit his lip and looked up at the street light with his brow pinched slightly. Arthur arched a cynical brow,

"Oi…F-frog face, you gonna… just stand there all… frog-like." Francis chuckled a little before looking down at Arthur, his royal blue eyes scanned the younger's dainty little face that didn't match his rough mannerisms at all before rolling those eyes and murmuring something too quiet for Arthur to hear.

"What? Were you speaking frog again?" Arthur queried, his voice a little louder than it needed to be. Francis winced, hell this isn't how he imagined it would happen but what other choice did he have if he thought rationally?

"I said, 'oh screw it'" his voice was steady and levelled. Arthur was about to butt in again but was quickly silenced by a crushing sensation on his lips. It took him a few moments to figure out what was happening but when he did he felt a surge of anger pulse through him. Even in his intoxicated state, he realised that Francis just wanted to go back and brag about he got the stupid little kid cornered and came out successful. He pushed whole-heartedly on the elder's chest and a string of curse words followed.

"Fucking…fucking…Frog. Go back to those two sex pixies and take your… your… rapey lips with you!" Francis would have laughed but he noticed the coldness in the other's eyes. He paused and a hand went up to his lips before tenderly brushing them whilst his mind retreated and made him realise that was probably not the most sensible option.

"Sourcils, I-I'm sorry…I'm er… very drunk and…"

"Like fuck you are! You haven't touched anything all night; you _knew _what you were doing. Stupid frog. Just go away, I hate you, understand? I hate you!"

The smaller turned on his heel and ran up the street before noisily banging on his house's door and hurrying in as though he was afraid Francis and his 'rapey lips' would come after him again. When the door shut and Arthur was inside his home, safe, Francis finally turned around and started heading back, rubbing at the back at his neck stressfully. Hopefully Arthur would forget tomorrow and Francis could somehow find a way to bury his feelings, he didn't need to smooth anything over and they could carry on like normal.

Well, that may have been wishful thinking on Francis' part.

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

"Ahem, he told me to tell you to 'fuck off with your rapey little bunch of friends'…Sorry buddy," Angus smiled crookedly and pulled slightly at his gelled ginger spikes, Francis felt his chest tighten, he shrugged and let out an uncertain chuckle,

"Well, I can't force him to talk to me, right?" Angus nodded before biting at his lip and folding his arms across his chest. His stance was now a typical 'big brother' pose and if he was being honest, it slightly intimidated Francis, especially if Arthur had told him what happened last night. However, Angus simply brought one hand over and let it come crushing down on Francis' shoulder,

"Whatever you've done has really upset him, mate. I mean… he came home crying like a little pussy, almost slapped him since I was halfway doing an assignment for college, but I digress…" He rolled his eyes, "He hasn't told us what's happened but I really like you, even if you are French, you've always been great with the little weirdo and you took Eoghan off my hands a lot last year what with your two er… 'rapey friends' but please don't upset him like that again. Gareth's _still_ up there trying to calm him down and Arthur _still_ won't tell him what's wrong."

Francis felt a guilty pang resonate through his gut, he looked away and at the door for a split second before being dismissed by the eldest Kirkland whom had obviously had enough of playing 'bad cop.'

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

"Sing it again."

Gareth rolled his eyes, "Canu'r dydd a chanu'r nos."

"I like that bit."

"You don't even know what it means…Do you want me to tell you?"

"No, no… Might spoil it."  
Gareth was very much in tune with his heritage, just as the rest of his brothers he went on to learn to speak his father's language, occasionally attending evening classes and sitting online tutorials. It made Arthur slightly resent his own birthplace, he was interested in languages, he enjoyed learning them and relished the thought of being able to state he was fluent in one. Angus and Eoghan had once tried to give him a joint lesson of Gaelic which ended disastrously since they both knew different versions of the language, Gareth was still a novice in Welsh so he promptly refused when Arthur suggested that he teach him some phrases and the school only offered German that Arthur wasn't particularly good at and French… And well..

His eyes watered at the memory and he sniffed. He hated Francis for making him feel like such a girl. He hated Francis for doing something as reckless as that without considering Arthur. He hated Francis.

**((A/N: This wasn't pleasant to write at all :c I promise the next chapter will be less depressing, honest gov! The Welsh at the end was taken from a hymn called Calon Lan, in case you wanted to know c: Hope you enjoyed it and feedback is very much appreciated~!)) **


	6. Chapter 6

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 6 ~ How time flies

"I'll be there in a minute babe," Francis' mother rolled her eyes, silently handing his money over and pressing her thumb against her palm, indicating how Francis was entirely under the thumb of his, admittedly very beautiful, girlfriend. He rolled his eyes and sniggered before wincing,

"No, cheri, I wasn't laughing at you…" He waved to his Mother before hastily exiting the house. Her grin subsided a little and her eyes became more downcast, she ran a hand through her perfect waves of hair as she felt a pair of hands encircle her waist, her expression turned content as a pair of gentle lips pecked at her cheek.

"You worry about him too much," the words came out in a singsong, she nodded and pulled herself away.

"Perhaps you just don't worry about him enough," she giggled accusingly, "It's just…. Don't get me wrong, Jeanne is a lovely girl, very polite and such but he doesn't seem as though he's as happy as he used to be. The male opposite her chuckled and pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Well he has exams now, he's going to be a bit stressed with them obviously…"

She shrugged and gave a half-hearted smile, "Perhaps."

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

She deserved much better than him. She was a vixen with a mass of strawberry blonde hair, piercings littered her face, her eyes were a sharp icy blue and always carefully rimmed with kohl and she was always being deemed the life of the party. She began to giggle and entwined her fingers with his, laughing heavier as a blush crept on her boyfriend's face. They had been seeing each other for over a year now and he still felt uncomfortable with physical interaction, the first few weeks it was cute but she was quickly becoming bored of it, only finding it funny when she could use to her advantage and made him squirm and writhe with embarrassment. He smiled apologetically at her and continue walking, his chin stuck in the air in an attempt to look confident, though it was hard when he strode next to such an outgoing character like her.

"Artie, please don't look like I'm forcing you to hold my hand and act like my boyfriend," she let out a stream of giggles, "I swear to God, half of these people probably think that I'm holding you at gunpoint, chill out sweetie."

He sniggered, "You should be thankful that I haven't kicked off yet, the amount of boys I've seen stare at your arse and legs is unbelievable." She smiled and fluttered her eyes innocently. Sometimes, Arthur wondered whether it had been a mistake going after the most well-known, outspoken, party girl in the school. But then again, she would look at him with her deep brown eyes, pout and say something insanely vulgar but funny and reminded him why he went after her. She was suddenly on her toes and craning to kiss his cheek, he smirked and raised a quizzical brow at her, she was hard to read and extremely dangerous, Arthur should know better but he didn't care, he liked having someone almost too carefree by his side to lead the way.

"Hint of jealousy, Mr. Kirkland?" He rolled his eyes and put a hand on her waist, ignoring the tuts they got from people passing by,

"Increasingly so, how don't I know you're going to run away and elope with someone like…" he scanned the area, finally settling on a balding man in his forties with a pot belly and complaining to no one in particular, "Like him?"

She turned and smiled wickedly, "How did you know, Artie? Just my type…"

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

"You're late."

Francis ducked his head apologetically before giving his girlfriend a gentle smile. He really liked her. She was stunning with gentle shoulder-length golden waves almost identical to his own and a permanent doe-eyed expression on her face, having only lived in the UK for a few years, her accent was thick and very much French. It was nice being able to identify with someone, to be able to converse in his native tongue with someone the same age as him. She stood in front of him, her face like thunder and her arms crossed tightly across her chest, her foot was tapping impatiently against the pavement, she scowled and sniffed before continuing to walk on. She was usually very gentle, her mannerisms were tender and almost maternal, especially when younger kids were involved. However, she had begun to dismay over Francis' impossible flirting and nowadays was letting her jealousy make her rather snappy and blunt with her boyfriend.

"Jeanne, don't be like that…" he grabbed at her wrist and struggled to keep pace with her. She stopped sharply and twisted to look at him,

"Who was it this time?" she demanded, "Who were you flirting with on your way here? Was it Eliza again? Natasha?" He shook his head and started to splutter with laughter,

"My Mother, actually," he sloped his arm lazily over her shoulders and brought the girl closer to him, "C'mon Jeanne, this is getting silly now, isn't it? I woke up late is all." She sighed, her brows knitted together for a moment as though she was considering it before believing him, before faltering and laughing herself, although he could tell they were strained giggles.

"I'm sorry… I'm not used to have to compete for my boyfriend is all and the girls all love you. Je suis tres desole, je t'aime." He gave a little grin at the use of his language before continuing walking, "Je t'aime aussi, Jeanne."

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

It was only a passing glance as they barged shoulders but obviously with the older's polite manner and the younger's angry one, it escalated quickly. He had accidentally nudged an extreme character of a girl as he walked past, arm in arm with his own girlfriend, and being the gentleman he had been brought up to be, naturally, he stopped to apologise and make sure she was okay.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" he looked down at her, deep, mischievous, brown eyes blinked up and twinkled at him and heavily painted lips split into a grin before opening to speak before getting cut off by a brittle, uptight and angry voice that Francis immediately recognized.

"Don't you ever look where you're going, frog?" His eyes snapped up and he felt his chest tighten. Standing only a few inches shorter than him was his old friend, he had altered dramatically over the past two years, he was no longer the gangly sickly looking nerd that Francis had fallen for all that time ago, now he stood prouder, his jaw squared and his shoulders broad. His eyes pierced and bored at him with the same intensity he had grown fond of, heavy brows framed them and choppy blond hair stood up in an awkward halo around his head. Francis let out a husky chuckle,

"Oh sourcils, are you together? Jesus, didn't think you'd be able to land such a pretty livewire." Arthur glared, his arm snaking protectively around his partner. Francis had not changed much, he still had the same gentle blond waves, his eyes still drooped with lashes that were far too long for him and he was still of strong stature, however, now he had stubble dusted around his dimpled chin and towered over everyone in a lean elegance.

"And I didn't expect you to be with a woman at all, frog," he smiled politely at Jeanne before sharply turning on his heel and dragging his girlfriend along with him.

He wasn't all that angry at Francis anymore. He just couldn't stand being around him because it just reminded him of that night two years ago when he was just a little boy at a big boy's party, he didn't want to let the other boy know that he had long ago forgiven him because now everything went so smoothly without the other's intervention and the same seemed to have happened with Francis. The way he saw it was that now they both had beautiful girlfriend, their own friends to talk to and their own studies to be concerned with, they didn't need each other anymore.

Really, he was just annoyed that he was nothing but a drunken spur of the moment kiss for the French boy when, in all honesty, it was just a bit more to him.


	7. Chapter 7

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 7 ~ Reunited

Francis had to laugh otherwise he would have cried. She sat there like royalty, raising her eyebrows at the people scuttling around doting on her every word. Her grin subsided slightly as she caught a glimpse of her only Grandson, he gave her an encouraging nod, it broke her heart to see him be so strong for her, knowing that he only did it because he was worried that if he showed that he was actually upset by the whole ordeal then she might get worked up. A doctor stopped next to her, his expression placidly blank, the professional grin he had trained himself to do in the presence of dying patients plastered all over his face. Her hand twitched, wanting to reach up and smack him harshly in his face, but knowing that it probably wouldn't be the best manners. She personally felt that she didn't need a doctor, that everyone was acting so frantically over nothing, as much as she hated it, she was getting old, illness wasn't uncommon for people of her age. She tried to smile back at him but her lips simply twitched before faltering and turning back down in a scowl, no matter how hard she tried to act like the obedient little patient there was that overwhelming rebellious streak in her that made her feel ridiculous doing so and even more angry at the Doctor whom had obviously done this kind of thing so frequently, it didn't seem to bother him anymore.

"Now Mrs Bonnefoy, we still have yet to determine the problem, at the moment all we can do is recommend you take the medicine prescribed to you and contact us immediately if your state deteriorates." She shook her head and flashed the man a smile,

"Of course Doctor," she had to refrain from rolling her eyes. He nodded before turning on his heel,

"A pleasure to see you again Mrs Bonnefoy, see you next time, okay?"

"Yes, yes Doctor. May I just say that tu es un putain." Francis' eyes bulged and he started to snigger, trying to mask it by pretending to cough heavily. The Doctor stopped and smiled again, saying his thanks and going to leave,

"Oui! Goodbye now, Doctor! Va te faire mettre!" she exclaimed cheerfully. Francis waited until the door was shut and he heard the Doctor's footsteps echo down the hallway before bursting out laughing, holding onto his sides and shaking his head as he did so. His Grandmother was a real cheeky bombshell, always had been and always would be, she smiled at him and patted the space next to her, he came over, still shaking with chuckles as he did and plopped himself beside her.

"I'm not sure calling the Doctor a slut and telling him to fuck his Mother is very polite over in this country," she rolled her eyes and smiled at him cheekily. Her misted-over blue eyes glinting with mischief, she glared playfully at the space the Doctor had previously occupied,

"Didn't you hear him, cher? How patronizing.. He acted as though I was an infant, I wasn't going to sit here and be blatantly undermined," her lips wavered a bit and she began to finger the stitching on her satin sheets, "They all act as if I'm stupid, Francis. You can't understand how aggravating it is when they talk in hushed voices and keep things from you because they're scared you might overhear something you don't want about yourself. I know what's coming and I'm not afraid anymore so I wish they'd just stop scuttling around and keeping things from me."

Francis felt his face turn pale, he gave a shaky half smile and grabbed her claw of a hand, "Now, now. You speak like a dying woman, you'll be fine, you're tougher than they think, right?" Her smile turned sad as she looked into the boy's desperate eyes, he implored her, hoping that she'd laugh along and proclaim that he'd have to take a shotgun to her if he wanted some inheritance, wanted her to scold him for looking so down but the words he wanted never came. She just smiled at him sadly for a moment or two before turning onto her side and quivering under her sheets, her creased eyelids closed shut and she gave out and obviously put on yawn,

"Well I'm very tired now, Francis, go on get out so your bedraggled Grandmother can get to sleep, okay?" He paused, hovering over her slightly before sighing and pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek and exiting the room with a heavy heart. He heard his parents murmur downstairs, scuttling around just as she said they did, a bitter smile evaded his lip and he walked straight down the stairs and through the front door. He needed to be alone and he knew exactly where he could go to get that sweet solidarity that he now craved so much.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

It wasn't that he disliked his Mother's new boyfriend, he just found it tiresome to have to play as though they were an ideal happy family when realistically they were all mutts conceived from all over the country shoved in a small, poky house and made to watch upon as their Mother got screwed over by another guy who was obviously so not ready to be responsible for such a dysfunctional family. He sighed, lighting up a cigarette as he walked and casually flicking ash every so often before taking a long drag of it, his phone had vibrated once or twice from a text from his girlfriend but he chose to ignore it, hoping to be alone. He smiled gently as the concrete pavement turned into grass as he trudged through the field, the sky was an abysmal grey and rain was trickling down lazily so the area looked more run down than fresh but to him it was still that brightly lit field he had spent most of his days at. He smiled and inhaled, breathing in nothing but damp and musty air before plugging in his earphones and taking a leisurely stroll around the perimeter of the area. He kept his eyes firmly on the ground as if he was counting the blades of grass, it was only until he bumped into a tall figure did he stop and looked up, poised to apologise. His eyes widened as they fell on the familiar face of his oldest childhood friend. He straightened himself up and took an earplug out, his heavy brow knitted together in irritation,

"Tell me, are all frogs blind and stupid, or is it just you?" Francis let out a dry chuckle, not bothering to retaliate or even look the other in the eye. Arthur's initial instinct was to be annoyed that the other hadn't paid much attention, but there was a nagging feeling at the back of his head that radiated concern. Francis' regal eyes were downcast, his shoulders slumped and his brow puckered seemingly without him noticing, he had lost all of his proud elegance and it worried Arthur. He licked his lips uncertainly before saying just as sharply as he had addressed him before,

"What's eating you? Is your whore girlfriend refusing to put out or something?" Francis shook his head, his jaw clenched before glaring straight back at his old companion.

"Believe me, Arthur, you have no room to call anyone's girlfriend that when your own goes around wearing skirts that barely reach her thighs," he sighed before racking a hand irritably through his hair, "Can't you just leave me alone?" Usually, Arthur would retaliate angrily, defending his girlfriend and screaming obscenities at the Frenchman, but he still didn't like the other looking so pitiful, standing in the rain and looking out to nothing like the protagonist in a badly written romantic comedy. His brain skidded over options that were sure to strike a reaction so maybe he'd be able to figure out why the other seemed so upset.

"Oh yes just like you left me alone," he said scathingly. It was a feeble attempt, admittedly, but it caused Francis to jerk his head up to glare at the other with contempt,

"That was two years ago, grow up Arthur."

"Whatever frog, what's the matter then? Why do you look so damn sad? Give me a reason to sympathise with you, frog, go ahead and try. What's the matter, you got wine on your favourite designer jumper?" Francis rolled his eyes. Arthur took another puff of his cigarette.

"Smoking's a dirty habit, sourcils," it was almost nice to hear the old nickname again even if it was said in a monotone. Arthur sniggered before dropping it on the floor and snubbing it out with his toe, making a mental note to pick it up later when the other had left and dispose of it properly.

"Better? Now what's wrong?"

"Why would you care?" Francis shot back, his irritation visible on his face, "God. I haven't spoke to you for two years, I get worked up about something and come here for a bit of peace and you just show up out of the blue. Mon dieu, I'm sure someone up there has it out for me."

"This was my place first," Arthur said softly, his voice sounding juvenile, "I'll kick you out of it if you don't tell me, I can because… because it's _my _place."

Francis almost laughed and walked away but then unwillingly he felt a pang of nostalgia. He had missed the childish banter, he had missed this place, he had missed _Arthur._ After thinking everything over about ten times, he finally sighed and let impulse take over, confessing to everything that was playing on his mind and letting the other see him weak just as he had two years ago, he already had seen Francis look so melancholy and his persistence hinted that if he didn't tell Arthur then he would just be tormented until he did anyway.

"My Grandmother's gotten ill is all," he glared at the stubbed out cigarette, not wanting to look at the other in the eye, "I was just…concerned, lets say, about her wellbeing. She sounded like she's given up earlier and I got worried."

Arthur paused. He had not met Francis' grandmother but remembered distinctly that the other thought highly of her, he had seen Francis in his weakest moments before but nothing compared to how breakable he looked at the moment, as though he too had resigned to the idea of losing this woman. It's always hard to think of something to say when placed in this situation without sounding pretentious or as though you pity them and that's for the normal person, Arthur, being as socially awkward as he always had been, found himself tripping over words in his head before settling on.

"If she's as stubborn as you then I'm sure she won't be going anywhere for a long time, okay?" he refrained from keeping his tone soft or caring. He had distanced himself; he refused to be concerned about that bastard again. Francis smirked a little before looking back up at the other,

"So then, why are you here? Anything troubling _you_ Sourcils?"

"'Course not, just wanted to visit the place again, Gareth's not finished cooking yet so it'll be a while until I have to go back." Francis sniggered,

"Mother Gareth, Daddy Angus, baby Arthur and Eoghan, right?" Arthur rolled his eyes, the frog had got the family setting down to a 't', he probably remembered Arthur's long rants from all those years ago.

"Except Daddy's off in Dundee at university at the moment so it's just us three now," he smiled gently, pulling another cigarette and lighting it, needing to distract himself from the nostalgia and memories. Francis winced lightly as the flame sparked and the end of the stick lit,

"Well, I best be getting back now, sourcils," he bent down and grabbed the end of the last cigarette and sneered at it before turning on his heel and walking off, "Can't have this littering up the place, can we? Adieu now."

"Oi! Frog!" he wasn't going to do it, he couldn't do it, he had been doing so well at being angry, "If you ever need to talk about it…" Okay he had done it. Francis smiled a little and nodded a fraction before continuing. He had been doing so well and now he was back to square one. He was back in the Frenchman's life.

**((A/N: This is so much easier to write~ I'd just like to take a minute to thank you guys for… Liking the story, I guess? I mean, I was checking my stats and I noticed twenty people added this to their alerts list and it made me really happy. Like, really happy u Thank you so much for the support and chapters should hopefully be coming more frequently!)) **


	8. Chapter 8

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 8 ~ Many happy returns

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear stiff lip, happy birthday to you!" He smiled despite himself and kissed the top of his girlfriends head, she linked her arm with his and walked along, a proud smile on her lips as she did so, her chin stuck out slightly and her hips swaying, unusually protective over him. She began to talk to him about his plans with his family, anxious to finally meet the brothers properly that he thought so highly of. Arthur caught a glimpse of her biting her lip, knowing that she was obviously working herself up into an unnecessary state over the whole affair, if it was up to him she wouldn't even be coming. He had been over hers before, met her parents and stayed for food, they were perfectly normal, her Dad had a steady office job and her Mother was a primary school teacher, he didn't want her to meet the eccentrics that were the Kirkland family, especially since Angus had come down last night in honour of his younger brother's fifteenth birthday. He smiled though and reassured her that they would all love her. Sure they would, there was nothing to dislike about her except that maybe she was a little loud but in the midst of the hustle and bustle of his domestic background it would go looked over, considered the normal. He kept his smile firmly in place until they brushed past the all too familiar French couple that he had rather been hoping to avoid.

"Happy birthday," Francis said, winking as he walked off with Jeanne by his side. He scowled, it was only until he heard Jeanne accuse him of looking at Arthur's girlfriends legs did he smile again. Just as he suspected they had began talking again and just as he was nervous of he began to feel more and more comfortable around the frog, soon enough they would be back to their old ways after all the trouble Arthur went through to stay away from the damn Frog and his rapey lips. The girl next to him smiled and fluttered her overgrown eyelashes at him, she ran her hand down his arm and entwined their fingers before stepping in front of him and going on her toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips before backing away deviously,

"See you later, Artie." He shook his head at her and rolled his eyes but he was still smiling, as if he was a bemused parent of sorts before murmuring his goodbye, silently dreading the festivities tonight.

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

"It's Arthur's birthday today."

She smiled at him, her face was more tired, more exhausted nowadays. The only life was in her eyes that still twinkled in the right light. She tilted her head to the side,

"It's funny, mon cher… You're talking about him again, it's been a while since you have," he smiled, combing out her grey hair gently with the brush on her bedside table before letting his fingers dance in her waves, weaving the hairs into a fat, neat plait, she smiled gently at the gesture. He shrugged casually but she knew he was far more excited about it than he was letting on. He had told her everything, she knew what was going on and had the situation mapped out in her head. He began to twist the braided hair and gather it on the top of her head,

"I'm glad," she murmured gently, "I've found myself worrying about the poor boy."

"You're never met him," Francis said, a hair pin sticking out of his mouth as he did, she grinned,

"I know," he pinned it all into place before grinning proudly, pulling a hand mirror that was sat on her bed alongside her and holding it in front of her face so that she could marvel at his handiwork. She spluttered with giggles, Francis was better at doing hair than most girls are, he looked hurt,

"Mon dieu, you really are girly, Francis, this is better than I could have ever done." He smiled then, happy that she wasn't actually laughing at him.

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

"Look, just…just get out of my kitchen!" She sniggered. It sounded odd hearing the words come from Gareth's lips but the effect was highlighted when Angus trudged out of the kitchen looking downcast as he ran his hand through his auburn spikes, murmuring that he was just trying to help. Arthur felt his face get hot with embarrassment and he smiled sheepishly at her before coughing loudly, drawing his eldest brother's attention from the floor and to him,

"This is Annie," he said, gesturing to the bombshell stood beside him who waved amusedly. Of course, to add insult to injury, Angus took a double take and then proclaimed she was much too good for him, murmuring what he'd do if he were a few years younger. Arthur snarled but was pulled into a bone crushing embraced by his eldest brother. Much as he denied it, he really missed Angus and his odd mannerisms laced with boisterous childishness. He spoke with a strong accent now, seemingly having picked it up from the people around him, it was a bit of a struggle to understand most of what he said now but Arthur had gotten used to it pretty easily, he was used to speaking to multiple ethnicities as the area he lived in was pretty multicultural although it was still deemed one of the racist places in London. Annie ducked her head and grinned cheekily back at the elder brother, her eyes lighting up as her boyfriend and this new stranger passed banter back and forth. Eoghan came from his room only moments later, exclaiming that he was starving and needed food quickly otherwise he'd waste away though it was only until the Mother came did they all eat.

Their Mother was obviously a stereotypical English rose in her prime. She shook out gentle honey blonde waves from a tight bun and made a tremendous effort to smile in a motherly fashion at Annie. Her cheeks were pink from the cold weather outside and her lips were round and full, it was obvious to see where all the siblings got their distinguishing eyes from, though the green of her iris was striking and beautiful, it lacked the twinkle that the boys had, her brow had previously been heavy but was plucked so she had straight, neat eyebrows, her hand occasionally went up to them unconsciously as if to check they hadn't suddenly sprouted more hairs. She seemed too young to have children, her face was barely creased except from fine lines on her forehead and around her eyes, she made a tremendous effort to look pleased as Gareth served up food and they all sang happy birthday, she nodded politely and gave Annie a kiss on the cheek when it was time for the girl to leave and began doing the dishes, ignoring the protests from Angus whom claimed he would do it.

Then, she sat them all down, her smile began to get more and more strained. They were sat blinking at her on the sofa, Arthur felt an unsettling sensation weigh down on his chest as if the aura wasn't quite right in the room. He shook his head, dismissing it and smiled back at her, feeling a little bit more anxious when catching a look at Angus who was sat tight-lipped as if he had been in the situation before and already knew the outcome. Her hands shook a bit and her eyes seemed to water,

"Boys," her voice was brittle, "I need to tell you something."

The unpleasant sensation was back. She continued.

"I had a letter from a friend in Ireland a few years back who's friend had died in childbirth and that the son needed a good place to go and I…I saw the picture and thought 'Well damn, just another won't hurt'" She laughed, "And then I thought that Eoghan really was the last one. Then, I got pregnant with Arthur and I couldn't just give it up, I really loved his father and I thought that we could all be a family, you know? He really was the last one. I love you all so much and I thought… _knew_ that I didn't need anyone else, as long as I had my four boys."

She was wringing her hands now, Angus' brow furrowed and he looked around, as if to process all the information she had given them, Gareth too had began to look concerned, Arthur and Eoghan looked at each other, puzzled by the tenseness of their other brothers, completely unfazed by their Mother's guilty hand gestures and mannerisms.

"You know that Brian and I have been seeing each other for quite some time now and…I think he could be the one. Look, what I'm trying to say boys is that," she hesitated, seemingly reluctant to utter the words she obviously wanted, "I'm…I'm pregnant. You're going to have another brother."

At first there was silence. Arthur closed his eyes and prayed mentally that the silence would continue. However, Angus was quick on his feet, his face contorted with rage and his whole body shaking, the woman flinched away as her eyes began to water more and her lip trembled.

"Bullshit!" he yelled, "Are you really that stupid? Another kid? How sensible! God, you can barely take care of the three you have living with you now and you think that you can just bring another poor kid into your mess? What about Eoghan and Gareth, eh? Eoghan will be revising for all his exams and Gareth's up to his fucking eyeballs in coursework, how do you suppose they help? And don't you dare say Arthur because he's got a lot on his plate too with school and I'm sure as hell not coming down from university to help you out."

She whimpered, shaking her head and clutching onto herself as though she was keeping fragments of her being together, "Angus, stop it! Stop it now!" The Scot went to continue but was caught dead by the calm, scathing tone of Gareth whom now had both hands placed on the youngest boys' heads protectively,

"He's... he's right, Mam. " She blinked at him, great tears spurted down her cheeks and she cradled herself, murmuring incomprehensibly. Arthur stood up and left the room quickly, not wanting to see anymore. Why had they brought it up? It was his birthday, wasn't it? Why couldn't she have left it another few days? He scoffed. Obviously she thought that they would go easier on her if it was all masked by a celebration but of course that wasn't the case. Gareth had followed him out, Angus was still yelling at the top of his lungs,

"Arthur," his brother said gently before thrusting a coat at him, "It's cold."

He gave a husky chuckle and grabbed it before swinging it over his shoulders and making his way out of the door. Seemingly unconsciously his hand reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, his cold fingers stabbed at the keys, forming a message. He could really do with someone to talk to right now.

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

Francis scrubbed at his damp hair with his towel before letting it lazily hand around his shoulders and his hair gently drip slightly with droplets he had yet to catch before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone that had gone off at least five times whilst he was in the shower. A few from Jeanne wishing him a girly goodnight, another from Gilbert adorning dirty jokes, the other from Antonio apologising for Gilbert's dirty texts and then the most recent from Arthur. He blinked at it, surprised that he really had saved the Frenchman's number after he had passed it on like a flirtatious schoolgirl.

'_Meet me at the field, douchebag, need to talk. Hurry up.'_


	9. Chapter 9

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 9 ~ Comfort me

"You'll get dirty if you lie down like that."

Arthur's eyes snapped open to see his companion stood over him with a grin, he glared back, despite having texted the other anyway, before huddling back under his coat and closing his eyes, his hand went out to pat the earth next to him so that Francis knew he still wanted him here. The elder rolled his eyes but his lips were pulled into a smile, he slowly lowered himself so that he was sat by the younger's head, he looked up, waiting for Arthur to speak first, thankful that the sky was clear of clouds that night so he had something to look at. The younger bit his lip before murmuring,

"Mum's pregnant." Francis raised his brows and smiled,

"Congratulations."

"No," Arthur murmured, sighing. His eyes opening slightly as he glanced to the other whom now was looking down at him instead of the stars. "Just means more trouble and scumbag Brian won't stay around to see it through," Francis nodded slowly and sighed, his shoulders squaring but a comforting smile playing on his lips. He ran a hand absent-mindedly through his hair, still slightly damp from his shower.

"And you're worried?"

"Of course I am," Arthur scoffed, "She's my Mum and she's up the duff with a kid she can't support, she can barely look after the three of us left." Francis shook his head,

"You don't need that lady to look after you, Artie, I look after you don't I?"

"Don't start with that, Frog, I'm really not in the mood tonight…" Francis smirked a little before running his hands through the younger's hair, stubbornly, Arthur grimaced up at him before rolling his eyes and succumbing to the other's touch, knowing that no matter how much he argued and insisted Francis cease he would continue almost as persistently as Arthur would yell.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Francis mumbled back, "I'm being a perfectly good boy and comforting my friend because he's sad, nothing more and nothing less and to add to that – Oh for God's sake, what does she want now?"  
Francis sat upright and grabbed his vibrating phone from his pocket before sighing and answering, it didn't take a genius to tell that the caller was very angry and cursing at him in French, Arthur raised a quizzical brow and refrained from spluttering with laughter at Francis' dismayed expression. Francis took on a gentle tone and began responding in French, phrases that Arthur had become accustomed to such as 'Mon cher' were tossed around in a hopeless jumble, attempting to console the person on the other line. Finally after what seemed a lifetime of Arthur staring at him amusedly and Francis playing with his shirt collar in a stressed fashion, he murmured his apologies and hung up before throwing his head back and letting out an aggravated sigh. Arthur had a smirk playing on his lips and Francis chuckled when looking upon him,

"Women eh? She's bent on the idea that I'm sneaking around with other people, I got yelled at for spending too much time cooking the other night, now it's because I didn't text her back to say goodnight. Why are the pretty ones always crazy, Arthur? Why can't they be beautiful _and_ sane? It'd make everything so much easier."

"Speak for yourself," he murmured, smiling fondly at the thought of Annie trying desperately to make a good impression and actually keeping her mouth shut for once so not to make a bad name for herself. Francis paused before smiling slightly,

"You like her a lot, don't you?" when the younger didn't respond, Francis continued, "I like Jeanne too, she's beautiful and witty and very fiery. It was fantastic when we first got together, I didn't want to be away from her." He laughed, "We used to talk to each other in random French around Gil and 'Tonio to confuse them, proper went for it, I remember this one time we pretended to be arguing when we were just screaming about our love for salads or something like that… But it's not like that anymore, she keeps yelling at me and it's never about salad, it's always about some girl I've apparently been eyeing up and then she'll cry and ask what she's done wrong and I'll feel bad because she hasn't done anything but neither have I and… and…" He paused and shrugged, Arthur blinked up at him inquisitively, "and I don't really want to be around her anymore…. That's bad isn't it? You're meant to want to spend time with your girlfriend."

Arthur rolled his eyes and sat up too, "Then dump the psycho bitch."

"Sourcils! I can't do that," Francis sighed exasperatedly, assuming that his companion really didn't understand what he was trying to get at.

"Why not? It's just stupid keeping you both in a relationship that both of you seem to not want," Francis paused, his eyebrows knitted together in consideration, he glanced down at his phone and his head reeled with the buzzing noise of his pissed off girlfriend's voice as if she was still there screaming at him.

"Anyway," Arthur continued, lying back down and closing his eyes, "You're going to have to clear out a spare room soon and your girlfriend's going to have to deal with you having a lodger."

"Oh? And why's that?" Francis asked, a brow cocked bemusedly as he glanced down at Arthur whom was now shivering in his coat as the air turned bitterly cold and nipped at him as if to add insult to injury,

"Because there's no way in hell I'm living with a screaming thing while Mum frets over everything and Brian walks out, plus, Gareth'll be a nightmare and try to act all maternal with us and probably fail his college course. I think it's safe to say that my place is going to be bedlam soon so you have approximately nine months to get your act together and clean out a space at your house for me, okay?" Francis began to laugh,

"And what will you do if I say no? What about your sweetheart Annie's house?"

"I'm sure her Father would love her boyfriend living with them," he grinned and opened one eye to look up at Francis imploringly, wondering how far he could push him, "If you say no you would have made me homeless. I'll have to live here on my own in the cold with no one to humor me. You wouldn't do that to me, would you Frog?"

Francis' small chuckles had escalated and turned into mighty laughs, playfully, he nudged the lying Arthur with the toe of his shoe, "You're manipulative, cruel and funny, you know that Soucils?"

"And that's exactly why you stick around, Frog."


	10. Chapter 10

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter Ten ~ Broke Up Today

Antonio was gentle; that was the best way to describe the Spaniard. Having been born into a large family and made to socialise with his many relatives, most of which knew barely any English and demanded he spoke to them slowly and clearly otherwise refused to converse with him at all, meant he had gained excellent social skills. This was probably why he had noticed the slight sag of Francis' shoulders and the melancholy glaze in his eyes. He had pointed it out to Gilbert whom immediately dismissed it as their mutual friend 'not getting some.' After a few days rolling it over in his mind, Antonio finally managed to bring it up to the Frenchman. He attempted to take on a casual and almost uncaring approach but it was clear to everyone that he was concerned, Antonio had smiled and snaked his arm around his friend's shoulder in a joking manner.

"What's eating at you, Francis? That face you've been pulling for the last few days has been bugging me," his voice came out in an accusing sing-song fashion and his lips jerked up into an awkward smile. Francis cocked a brow before heaving a sigh and chuckling too. Nudging the other jokingly in the side, he smiled and rolled his eyes at the Spaniard.

"Women are just difficult, 'Tonio, there's no need to worry." Antonio paused for a moment, Jeanne had been demanding more and more of Francis' attention lately, as if she was paranoid about something, He couldn't blame her, it didn't take a genius to see that Francis was a whole lot better now that he and Arthur were speaking again and Gilbert had secretly remarked on how the two complimented each other so well and Antonio couldn't help but agree with him. He sympathised with her somewhat but it pained him to see one of his closest friends so stressed all the time. He opened his mouth to speak and attempt to comfort the silently suffering Francis when the other's phone went off, obnoxiously blaring out some foreign French song that Antonio couldn't understand. The blond glared down at it for a moment before answering with a sickly sweet voice that was obviously put on.

"Yes, mon cher?" he rolled his eyes after a while, a harsh buzz audibly screamed out from the phone's receiver and Antonio flinched at it's mechanical callousness, "Yes, yes okay. Please stop yelling, I'll be right over, okay? Je t'aime aussi."

Gilbert, whom for the past minute or two had been watching silently, let out an exasperated sigh and fell down on the sofa next to the other two before glaring at the phone with all the malice he could muster before blinking pleadingly up at Francis.

"C'mon Franny, you haven't hung out with us in ages. Just a little while longer?" Francis laughed lightly before standing up,

"Sorry 'Gilly' but I'm not sure I want to be castrated, I promise tomorrow I'm all yours, okay?"

"You said that yesterday," he whined before nudging the Spaniard next to him, "Tell him, Tonio!"

Antonio smiled warmly at the albino who was now pouting up at Francis before nodding and rolling his eyes, "If Francis needs to go, he needs to go. We'll just kidnap him earlier tomorrow and make sure he doesn't bring his phone, okay? Go quickly before she sharpens her pitchfork, okay?"

Francis sniggered before quickly leaving, ignoring the yells of Gilbert as he did so. Shuddering slightly, he bunched up underneath his coat and wound a scarf around his neck as the cold wind lashed out and bit at him. Unusually so, his legs seemed to buckle slightly at every step he took and he anxiously winced, an uneasy feeling hovered and settled over him as if he body was anticipating some sort of impact and warning him that he should turn back and run away. He sighed slightly and continued, Jeanne had sounded angrier than ever on the phone but he couldn't understand why, he wasn't sure he wanted to find out either.

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

Arthur watched nervously as Angus stood at the door, suitcase in tow. The atmosphere of the house hadn't been the most inviting since his birthday but of course that was to be expected, they barely spoke now and his Mother's night time sobs had started to become more and more frequent. Angus blinked over at his younger brother sadly before giving a melancholy smile and outstretching his arms, Arthur's brow furrowed and he eyed them up uncertainly until Angus strode over and picked him up into a bone-crushing bear hug. Affection was rarely even thought of in the Kirkland household so when the stoniest and 'man's man' of them all had simply whisked him up and acted so out of character it came as more than just a shock. Angus started to laugh and placed him down,

"Crappiest birthday you'll be having in a long time," he said, his voice straining to seem unfazed by it all. Angus had seen his Mother go through the same thing three times over and it was hard for him to appear strong when he already predicted the worse but nevertheless he seemed determined to keep face for his younger brothers. Arthur blinked up at him in surprise, thankful when Gareth came from his room and cut the tension that had rested between the eldest and youngest Kirkland.

"You forgot your toothbrush," he murmured, pressing it into the redhead's hand as Eoghan came downstairs, his head bent and his thumbs twiddling together as though they were fighting.

"Where's Mum?" Angus asked looking up the stairs, Gareth's stoic expression broke and his brows knitted together and his lip began to tremble. Arthur noticed the flutter of his Welsh brother's eyelashes began to get more frequent and his chest rose slightly, Eoghan's head snapped up and he looked nervously between the two as if preparing for them to start fighting like his thumbs just were but instead Angus simply rolled his eyes and grabbed his suitcase before turning on his heel and going for the door.

"Typical," he murmured harshly. Without warning, Gareth reached out and grabbed the eldest's sleeve, stopping him in his tracks. Arthur stayed respectfully silent though watched both of them as they paused, Angus turned slowly to look at him. Gareth's face was resolutely neutral but the shining of his eyes betrayed his unbiased expression, they looked at each other for a moment before Angus sighed and patted his younger brother's head.

"You look after them all, sheepy," Gareth's lips quivered and formed a slight smile,

"You look after yourself, I'm not going to have enough time to send you as much food as I do now, okay?" Angus pouted before looking up at Eoghan who stood awkwardly, his brow furrowed and his breathing becoming heavier then at Arthur who stood unemotionally.

"If I find out that any of you give Mammy Gareth hell, I'll be down here kicking your ass before you can even think of apologising, okay?" Arthur sniggered and Eoghan's face quickly took to the expression of an earnest puppy dog that it usually was in. Angus opened the door, attempting for the second time to leave before being cut of by the soft patter of feet on the landing, his face fell as his Mother's figure appeared at the head of the stairs, they hadn't spoke or even attempted to see each other since Arthur's birthday and the tension was still thick between them. She blinked and a few tears fell, staining her pale cheeks with streaks.

"At least take care of yourself," he murmured, his voice had a bitter edge. She rushed down the stairs and she lunged at her eldest son wrapping her arms around his neck and crying into his toned chest. Slowly and unconsciously his hands went up to pat at her blonde waves of hair, her whole body racked with sobs as she murmured apologies. It seemed to be the longest goodbye the Kirkland family had to endure.

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

"Mon cher, you can't ring me up screaming at me to come over quickly then just sit there is silence. What's wrong, Jeanne?"

She sat at her window with a placid expression on her face, it was obvious that she had been crying as her eyelashes were matted with tears and her eyeliner that had been applied with such precision was now slightly smudged at the corners of her eyes. Her hair was touselled as if she had been racking her hand through it and her hands were perched in her lap. Francis was stood just to the side of her and leant casually up against a wall, his first instinct was to rush over there and comfort her, hold her pretty face in his strong hands and kiss her rouged cheeks but instead he hung back, knowing that she from how she was poised she didn't not want him hanging on her. Although she was obviously sad, Francis didn't think he had ever seen her look so beautiful. Her hair was not purposefully styled and lay in natural soft and messy waves, her eyes shone with unshed tears that were on the brink of pouring out and her lips were pursed slightly. Jeanne blinked up at her boyfriend, her face still unreadable before looking outside the window again.

"I'm going to visit family in France," she murmured. He raised an eyebrow quizzically and crossed his arms, she was close to her family, and it would be good for her to go, he couldn't understand why she looked so sad about it.

"That's good, isn't it? I mean, you always talk about how much you miss them all over there, why are you crying?"

She looked up at him with a glare that could stop a blind man in his tracks, she radiated hurt and her eyes implored him to continue on stupidly. He responded with a look of confusion and stood up straight, he made his way over but was stopped by her saying vehemently,

"Because of _you_," she glowered, "I wasn't always like this you know. I was never insecure, never clingy or jealous, but then you came along and changed all that. How can I go to France knowing that you'll be flouncing around with other girls _and_ boys, not giving your girlfriend on the other side of sea a second thought and having the time of your life playing a bachelor? How can I do that, Francis?"

He became defensive now but still walked over to her and took both of her hands in his own, he looked up into that fearless glower of hers and tried to convey his sincerity.

"Jeanne, I wouldn't do that. Why do you think of me like that, mon cher? Have I done something in the past to hurt you? You said you were perfectly fine with my sexuality, ma belle" She scoffed and pulled back her hands, tears started to fall down her cheek in single file and the clear beads sliding idilly down her skin complimented her porcelain complexion.

"Oh don't get me wrong, Francis, I'm fine with it. Perfectly fine, fine, fine. But when you go staring at that Kirkland boy all the time and then sneak off with him after dark when he texts, it starts to get a little worrying. And don't get me wrong, it's not just him either, you follow the albino and the Spanish one like a lost puppy and pine over them. Then don't even get me started on the girls you look at all the time…"

"Arthur was sad, mon cher."

He had attempted to reason but instead got cut off by the scathing tone of his beautiful Jeanne, "And I am sad, Francis. But you don't care anymore because you think I'm just being repetitive and unexciting and you'd much rather be single and run free with the rest of your bachelor friends. Well go ahead, I'm letting you go. Scram, be single and I'll go to France and when I get back we'll ignore each other like none of this ever happened, oui? Now just get out."

His eyes widened and he grabbed her chin so that they were both looking each other in the eye, his thumb went out and stroked away her tears and he brought their faces very close together.

"I _do_ care," he said insistently. Her hand came down and met his cheek with a harsh slap, the noise reverberated and they both sat there in shock. Fresh tears sprung to her eyes and she began to sob and turned inconsolable.

"I hurt you," she cried, his hand went up to rub at his sore face, "I-I'm sorry. I hurt you... Just go, Francis! Just get out already!"

"It's okay, Jeanne," he murmured.

"No, no it's not. Get out. Leave me alone, we're over, okay? Over. Leave me alone."

**((A/N: I noticed thanks to a lovely reviewer that I made a mistake with Arthur's girlfriend's description. I just wanted to apologise and promise that I'll try and proof read a bit more thoroughly from now on c: ))**


	11. Chapter 11

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter Eleven ~ Shelter

"Hey look on the bright side, we've got our boy back now! Drink to that?" Francis smiled sadly at the albino so desperately trying to lighten the mood. Gilbert had never been good with emotion unless it was simply 'happy', when Francis had rang him up and sounded truly depressed and downcast, he immediately suggested that they meet up with Antonio instead of talking over the phone. Although sometimes it could be seen as disheartening when Gilbert outright refused to speak about 'depressing' subjects but it was just because he wanted to make people feel better but never had the right words to say, Antonio on the other hand was more sympathetic and allowed his friend to lean on his shoulder and muffle out incoherent French with a pitiful tone. Gilbert had watched them for a while uneasily before walking determinedly to the kitchen, only to reappear clutching a crate of beer his Father had brought back from Germany on a business trip. Antonio and Francis watched as their friend waddled in with it in tow, trying to balance the already heavy crate and shush the complaining Ludwig who was chastising him for taking the alcohol without their Father's permission.

"Luddy, stop being such a whiny… Ugh. Listen, Vati will understand, don't you have homework to do?" Francis smiled gently at Ludwig whose little face was too stern for his own good, his age escaped Francis but it was obvious that the youngest brother was the more sensible. Eventually, Ludwig was left disgruntled and left the room, murmuring in German and rolling his eyes. Gilbert's eyes watched his retreating frame and when satisfied that the younger was locked up in his room upstairs snapped back to look at his two friends still lolling on his sofa.

"Gentlemen," he started, feigning a proper mannerism, "In true German fashion we should drown out our bad feelings by awesome drinking, yes? Because if I'm honest I think her dumping you could be the best thing for you right now, Franny, now you can hang out with us more! And of course study or whatever…"

Antonio chuckled, reaching over and grabbing a can and sipping at it delicately with content before blinking back at the more than a little reluctant Francis, "Perhaps it'd be good for you to er… drown your sorrows?" he attempted. The French boy didn't need much convincing though and reached for his own can in a matter of minutes. The night went on sluggishly, his thoughts blurred by the alcohol and his mind not at all straight; Francis went outside and pulled out his phone, stabbing at the numbers on his phone.

"For fuck sake, do you _know_ what time it is, frog? What do you want?" he smiled at the grumpy tone of the younger on the other side of his phone.

"Jeanne left me Arthur," his words came out in a sing-song although he felt pathetic saying them, there was an uncomfortable pause in which Arthur cleared his throat and searched for words to say. Francis could almost see the Brit looking around his room as if searching for inspiration, he pictured Arthur gnawing on his bottom lip in consideration and those all too heavy eyebrows furrowing whilst he thought. The picture made Francis grin, his little English boy would be completely unsure as to what to say, he would wonder whether or not to attempt to comfort Francis or to make fun of him mercilessly. It took a while but Arthur finally coughed and murmured,

"Oh… Well. You don't sound like you're taking it to heart, why'd she leave you?"

"Because she thought I kept staring at your ass, Sourcils." Arthur spluttered, making Francis' grin broaden. He was intoxicated and easily amused and he didn't even care, the nervous noises Arthur was making was truly too funny to miss out on. He heard the other's brother come into his room and query who he was talking to and then Arthur brush it off by replying 'Annie.'

"Am I your girlfriend for the time being then, Arthur?"

"Okay Francis, you've obviously gone out drinking with your rapist buddies so I'll be polite and _not_ kick your ass. However, I do recommend you have some water before you go to bed because by the sounds of it you're utterly and completely off your head and you don't want to be getting over a breakup with a massive hangover. Goodnight now, Frog." Francis' eyelashes fluttered for a second before chuckling again,

"Okay Mummy Arthur. Je t'aime," Francis hadn't meant for the last part to come out, it just slipped clumsily out of his lips as if it was natural, he braced himself for Arthur to start yelling at him but was pleasantly surprised when all he heard was a string of husky chuckles.

"Yep, you're definitely drunk, idiot. I don't speak frog but I'm going to assume that was goodnight and be off before you try to tell me what it actually is, get some sleep Francis. Night." And with that Francis was alone again, stood in the dark back garden of one of his best friends and looking completely pathetic and pitiful. He smiled down at the phone for a while before sighing and putting it back in his pocket, Francis straightened up and looked at his reflection through the window that's curtains had long been drawn before walking back into his friends, Gilbert was chortling contently to himself and Antonio was also on the phone, murmuring heated things in Spanish with a grin on his face. Gilbert blinked up at him and grinned before patting the space next to him, the French boy sunk and sat down next to the albino with a small smile on his lips. He knew that tomorrow he would be sad again, pining over his Jeanne although they had both been so unhappy in the relationship but for now it didn't matter because he was quite happily drunk with his best friends and had succeeded in getting Arthur hysterically flustered. For now, life was good.

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

"You look tired, stiff lip, what's wrong?" Annie blinked up at him, her lips were upturned into a little smile but it was pretty obvious she was concerned. He rolled his eyes and smiled back, running his hands through her hair softly and led back on the sofa, she had become more of a regular visitor to his house since her first visit and he figured that if stupid Brian could openly kiss in front of them all, he should be allowed to cuddle with his girlfriend. She leant on his chest but her eyes were still glued to his face, analyzing every little twitch in detail just in case something really bothering him.

"Just bloody Francis calling me up at unholy times in the early morning, then worrying over him incase he fell over or something when he was drunk…And then having that bloody Gilbert ring me up from Francis' phone and make very loud, deliberate sex noises." She snorted with laughter, her frame beating against his slightly. He grimaced,

"Yeah you can laugh, you didn't hear his impromptu girl squeals, almost burst my bloody eardrums," she smiled at him and giggled gently nesting back down onto his chest, he played with a strand of her hair absent mindedly and gave a gentle smile when she looked back up at him.

"Stiff lip, how is Francis? He seems a bit sadder than usual and I have to be honest it's a bit unsettling, I'll like the guy, he's really nice." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"He's fine, that silly girl broke up with him last night so he's finally free to whore about as he pleases," Annie glowered slightly before sighing.

"Jeanne, yeah? She's a nice girl but since they got together she got really freaking scary, she had a random outburst in our chemistry class, screaming at this poor girl to keep her 'minxy slut germs' away from Francis. It was kind of funny at first but Jeanne forgot that the girl had a black belt in some kung fu shit and then before we knew it there was chairs and all sorts being thrown around, Mr. Livingston didn't know what to do with himself."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "I can see why Jeanne'd be concerned though, Francis has enough minxy slut germs already, I'd try to make sure he didn't get anymore if I were her too."

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

"Mon cher, you stink of alcohol."

"Je t'aime aussi," Francis smiled at his Grandmother as she turned her head and pinched her nostrils jokingly. He didn't like seeing her like this so often preoccupied himself when he went in her room to talk, he would maybe do homework, draw or braid her hair, anything to keep him from looking to hard at her. She seemed so small now, she lacked the almost regal superiority that she had possessed only a few weeks previous. She was bundled under her satin sheets, her bony claws for hands turned more so skinny, her creased face was drawn with more lines and her eyes were sunken in. He hated seeing her so small, although her tongue was still sharp and she continued to make snide comments here and there, he knew that she was hurting. What was worse that his Grandmother was becoming more and more accepting of her apparent death. She often spoke to him about what she wanted her funeral to be like and saying deliberately, 'if you do it wrong, I will come back and haunt you.' One day, he simply got up and left the room, from then on all talk of funerals or death was silently prohibited and she went on to feign interest in his schoolwork.

"Where were you, Francis? I missed our little chat yesterday," she smiled at him though the smile didn't hit her eyes. He sat down on the bed next to her and sighed before letting his eyes fall on the sheets as though they were particularly interesting.

"Jeanne broke up with me," he mumbled a little sadly before looking back up at her with a melancholy smile on his lips, he wasn't expecting his Grandmother to offer him her condolences but was a bit taken aback when she announced proudly,

"Well finally, that girl wasn't good for you Francis. Too clingy, non? Now you can devote your time to your sick little Grandmother, there's a good boy." He laughed lightly and started to play with the woman's grey hair that hung loose by her side, she smiled at him as his fingers started to weave between the strands. Most elderly women he knew had frail and brittle hair but his Grandmother's had somehow stayed thick and healthy throughout her years and he knew that she was beyond proud of it.

"Should we try a bun today?" he murmured, "Maybe have a few strands falling down and be all modern like that."

She chuckled and grabbed his hand, "Yes.. Yes that'll be nice."


	12. Chapter 12

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter Twelve ~ Stay with Me

Gareth watched the boy opposite him cautiously, his stare not faltering even when the younger glanced back at him in confusion. Eoghan was perched next to his older brother and for once was quiet due to the fact he was completely immersed in the program playing on the small and rather shabby television they owned however he would sometime follow his brother's view and glance at the other opposite although his stare was a lot less intimidating and a lot more friendly. Francis knew there was still a bit of resentment between him and Arthur's brothers from two years ago but still made an effort to smile at them politely, Gareth wasn't glaring at him or showing any sort of malicious behavior but that was the most unsettling aspect of the Welsh brother's gaze, he simply stared as if he could see straight through into Francis' mind. Eoghan looked between the two uneasily before clearing his throat and smiling at Francis again,

"Artie should be back soon, he's just gone to pick up some bread and stuff," Francis grinned back and nodded, trying his best to avoid the stare of Gareth that was still probing at him.

"Okay cool, I don't mind waiting."

"So what do you want?" Gareth said, his voice was emotionless, it showed no sign of dislike but wasn't exactly the most caring tone either. Francis reluctantly turned to look at him, freezing internally when those shocking green eyes fell on him. That was the thing that intimidated him the most about all of the Kirkland brothers, their eyes were sharp and would stop a blind man in his tracks, it was like a reminder that although they seemed carefree and gentle they could turn and get dangerous. Although he hadn't witnessed any of the brother's acting out like that Arthur had informed him of a few incidents. The one that stuck with him the most was about when one of his Mother's ex boyfriends, one that knew how to use contraception anyway, had come around drunk and violently demanding she take him back, Angus had apparently hit him so hard that he was unrecognizable the next day and Gareth had simply chucked him out into the street after Angus was finished. Their manners were usually quite gentle so it shocked Francis at first but then he realised how strong their family bond was and those damn eyes, no matter how stunning, always reminded him of that story.

"Just to hang out," he replied as casually as he could. Gareth gave a short nod and looked up at the stairs, his brow puckered slightly as though he was thinking, Francis didn't like to say anything but he was sure he heard the distinct sound of someone vomiting, he could only assume it was the Kirkland Mother since Angus was gone and the two other brothers sat with him.

"Sorry about that," Eoghan said hurriedly as the noise seized, Gareth glared at him pointedly,

"She can't help it, idiot," his tone still held no emotion and his accent made it seem a lot more gentle than it was probably intended but the scathing look Gareth was giving his younger brother could stop a troop of army men. Francis smiled politely and looked up at the stairs,

"It doesn't matter, it's all natural, non? How far along is she?"

"Few months."

Arthur came into the room, almost silently before recoiling and blinking at the Frenchman sat down on the shabby leather of his sofa, talking to his brother's as though they had been friends for years and running his hand through his silky hair as though it was easy. He raised one of his prominent brows and crossed his arms across his chest, the shopping bag he held in one hand swung vigorously and hit his torso but he pretended as though he didn't notice.

"Frog? What're you doing here?" Francis blinked in surprise before smiling up at Arthur, his discomfort was only slightly noticeable on his face but even so Arthur knew he should probably get the French boy out of the room as soon as possible.

"I was planning to cry on your shoulder all afternoon, Artie, of course if that's okay with you."

Arthur rolled his eyes but before he could respond the Frenchman was on his feet and thrusting the jacket that Gareth had handed over to him earlier and told him to make sure his younger brother wore it,

"Or go for a wander, if that's any better."

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

They sat very still, very silently, as though they were all of a sudden afraid of each other. Their walk had been long and full of normal, healthy conversation, however it seemed as though when their feet touched the grass of the field it seized any of their capability to form a normal, healthy sentence. The younger watched his companion cautiously, his green eyes probing at his face, hoping to catch a glimpse of some emotion whilst the elder stared of at nothing in particular before letting out a huge sigh and sitting down on the damp surface below them, he looked up at the still staring boy before giving a dry chuckle and lying back on the grass.

Sometimes it seems as though time stops, though it never really does. Arthur contemplated this as he slowly lowered himself to sit down though didn't lean back completely like his friend, the French boy looked up at the murky sky that threatened a random English shower and smiled gently. Francis wasn't one to mope over a lost lover, he usually brushed himself off and went onto the next easily, at first Arthur had supposed that he would continue this after Jeanne dumped him, that he would be with another girl in a matter of days, however for some reason he couldn't help but wonder if Francis was actually pining for his ex girlfriend.

"You didn't actually tell me," he murmured, "You know, the real reason she broke up with you…"

Francis looked at him and smiled for a moment, "Gilbert said I rang you up and told you, though admittedly I was a little bit… Well not myself, that German stuff is strong."

"You did ring me," Arthur tried not to laugh, "But it was mostly…Ridiculous stuff and frog language, so why was it? Or do you not want to say?"

Francis paused for a moment, trying to go over the conversation in his head to recall what he said to the other male, he remembered laughing about it later on with the other two but that was all and if it was mainly in 'frog language' like Arthur had said, he was probably just going on about nonsense that made no sense. He shrugged before running his hand through his hair,

"Because she was going to visit her family in France and didn't trust me to not sleep around."

Arthur nodded, his movements stiff and almost robotic in contrary to Francis who seemed more casual, simply led there and looking up at Arthur. With a gruff chuckle the elder's hand went out to grab the wrist supporting Arthur's leaning figure and pulled so that the younger fell down on his back too.

"Oi!" he yelled defiantly but Francis simply laughed.

"I couldn't help it, sourcils, you looked so serious, don't worry about it." Arthur attempted to glare at him but instead rolled his eyes and let his hand wander over to the other's hair and twirl it slightly,

"I'd have thought you would have been afraid to get your hair all knotty by lying down," he gave it a little tug, causing Francis to take a sharp inhale of breath in surprise, he laughed again before prying the gentle waves from the younger's fingers and sighing. He smiled at Arthur who unfalteringly stared him out and waited for him to say something,

"Enough about my poor excuse for a love life, yeah? How's your Annie? You're still going strong?"

"Oh," Arthur murmured reluctantly as he tried to contain guilty feelings that were tauntingly playing in his mind, he had almost forgotten about his long-term girlfriend since Francis had been dumped, his thoughts were ruled by worries over the other's wellbeing and he realised that perhaps he was neglecting her slightly. He still smiled however and shrugged casually,

"Yeah…Yeah I s'pose we are."


	13. Chapter 13

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 13 ~ Inevitable 

Francis' luck wasn't looking up. In fact, it seemed as though it faltered and plummeted downwards in a confusing spiral that consisted of sleepless nights and his pretty little face contorted in an unhappy frown most days. So yeah, things seemed pretty bleak and as his albino friend would say, 'unawesome.'

His week had started with a group of girls who he hadn't noticed before form a wall around Jeanne, talk about him animatedly and give him pointed harsh glares. If he didn't know better he would march over to them and demand they stop, it was only when he caught glimpse of his ex-girlfriend and she gave him a half-hearted embarrassed smile before mouthing an impersonal apology did he refrain from doing so. She would be gone soon and the girls would get tired of it during her time away. Aside from that, he found it hard to be angry with her, the childish side of him wanted to grab the nearest girl or boy and shove his tongue down their throat in front of Jeanne's face but the more mature and reasonable side argued back, claiming that they were going to break up anyway and it was better that way. He had come to terms with their breakup, he thought that things would move swiftly on and he'd be fine

However, mid-week he had to listen to Gilbert whine and bitch about a girl who 'used to be awesome, but got a douche for a boyfriend and completely turned unawesome.' He had attempted to make it anonymous at first but it was pretty easy to pick up on his frequent glares aimed at Elizaveta whenever she spoke of a boy he had been seeing from a private school. It amused him that it was the same Elizaveta that Gilbert had once pronounced to be too butch to spare a thought for. Over the past year or so she had turned into a highly desirable young woman, her hair and makeup were always immaculate, she took care when speaking and was generally a sweet girl to be around, but then you only had to blink and this very traditional feminine figure was suddenly beating a whole football team of boys at their own game or fixing a car.

The rest of the week lulled him into some sort of false sense of security as by Friday he contentedly kicked back with both friends at Antonio's house and joked about trivial boyish things as usual. Halfway through hearing Antonio complain, in very specific detail, about the new Spanish teacher's incompetence, Francis' phone went off and his Mother's name blinked on the small screen. He shrugged and answered it, casually leaning back so that he could put his head on his albino friend's shoulder, ignoring the small noise Gilbert made in protest.

"Maman?" he answered with a small smile.

"Francis! Francis! Quickly, you have to come home now!"

"Maman, calm down. Quel est le problème?"

"Votre grand-mere. Oh, Francis please, just come home quickly! Your Father's not home yet and I'm frightened, I didn't want to ring you but the ambulance men said…"

"Ambulance men? What's going on? Is she okay?" There was a clear hesitation on the other end of the phone, Francis had now sat up straight and both of his friends watched silently as his brow furrowed and he pressed the phone he held harder into his ear as if willing his Mother to respond.

"I don't know, they're not telling me anything," she whispered, her voice broke with sobs, "Francis, please come home."

"I'll be there in a minute, stay calm and don't move until I'm there, okay? Je t'aime."

"Je t'aime aussi, please hurry!"

He hung up and quickly sprung his feet before grabbing his coat and hurriedly pulled it on, his friend's watched him worriedly all the while as the French boy murmured incomprehensibly in his native tongue. Antonio got to his feet and placed a hand on his shoulder, in usual circumstances he would have smiled and told the boy to calm down but something about Francis' mannerisms told him that wasn't a good idea.

"What's wrong?" he murmured, Francis nodded his head and started making his way to the door.

"Something about my Grandmother and an ambulance, Mum's freaking out 'cause my Dad's in work and stuff, I'm sure it's fine but…"

"Better safe than sorry, " Gilbert chided uneasily, causing the French boy to nod at him with a small smile before turning and quickly dashing out of the house and sprinting towards his own home, taking no notice of the wind harshly against the bare skin he didn't have time to cover with the scarf he had left at Antonio's, simply silently praying that his strong Grandmother was okay.

The albino looked up at Antonio, a little worried smile gracing his face. The Spaniard sighed and sunk down, placing himself on the German boy's lap and letting his head loll on the other's shoulder. Gilbert whined slightly but didn't continue his complaints, instead his hand went out to entwine his fingers with his Spanish companion's own. Many people made assumptions about the trio, a lot of people assumed they were all homosexuals getting into each other's pants and whereas this was hilarious to poke fun at, it was pretty far from the truth. The boys sought comfort from each other, when one of them were sad they all bore the burden and were obliged to make it more comfortable.

"Damn Francis, making me all worried," Gilbert murmured, his lips turning downward into a little pout. Antonio gave a dry chuckle before playing with the albino's, somehow freezing, hands and pulling his head a little away from the nape of the German's neck.

"I hope he'll be okay," he murmured, "He's had such a crap few days, I don't know how he'd handle it if something else went wrong now."

.||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

When Francis arrived home, awaiting him was his Mother who sat anxiously alone on the doorstep, when she caught sight of him she ran over with her arms outstretched before allowing her only son to pull her into an embrace. Her mascara hadn't smudged but she had little pinpricks of black around her eye where her damp lashes had brushed her skin and left a tiny mark, her shoulders jerked every now and then with little sobs and her lips, still rouged, opened to emanate a pathetic little wail.

"What happened, Maman? Francis murmured gently, she looked up into his face and felt her heart break twice over. Her son, her baby, wore a serious expression that looked alien on his perfect angelic face. She shook her head and looked away before shrugging,

"I don't know... One minute she was singing an old song with me because she said she was feeling better, the next she was shivering and complaining she was freezing. When I felt her forehead to check her temperature she was scalding hot, she yelled at me for being silly and said she just needed a warm cup of tea but then mid-sentence she kind of just... Just stopped talking, her lips were still moving but no noise came out. S-so I rang the emergency services and they came and got her." She paused uncertainly, "Maybe I was just being silly..."

"Non," he interjected with a small smile he hoped was comforting, "You did the right thing, Maman. We'll get Dad to drive us to the hospital as soon as he comes home, okay?"

"I-I can…"

"You're not driving," he murmured and led her inside, "We'll wait in the warm, eh?"

.||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

It was, to be put bluntly, fucking freezing outside. Arthur bundled under his jacket and pulled his scarf up so that it covered his face up to the tip of his nose, the streetlights flickered every now and then before proceeding to blind passers by with their bright, albeit obnoxious, yellow light. His phone rung out and cursing he pulled his numb fingers from his jean pockets and answered it begrudgingly, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Hello?" he pulled down his scarf so that his speech wasn't muffled.

"Arthur, that's you, yeah? It's Antonio, you know, Francis' friend Antonio. Listen, Francis just called and he's in a state, his Grandmother…"

Arthur froze. Francis was always open about his undying admiration for the woman, only a few weeks ago did he voice his fears about her deteriorating health, his heart lept into his throat and his brow furrowed.

"She's just been taken into the King's Arm's hospital, he asked me to ring you so you could go see him. He really needs you to be there at the moment, Neither Gil or I will do and he doesn't have Jeanne anymore, so… You're not busy, right?"

The English boy cursed inwardly, "No.. No, I'll get a taxi over there right now. Call the Frog for me and tell him to calm his tits because I might be a while."

.||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

Annie had been waiting for over an hour. Finally she sighed and gave up, glancing at herself in the mirror she ran a hand through her hair and glared at her made up face. She could have any guy she wanted and she just had to pick the one who had yet to learn how to answer her calls, or give semi believable excuses or remember their plans. She pulled off the clothes she had previously chosen with extreme care and slipped into an oversized t'shirt in it's place, she wiped the make up she had just applied with extreme precision and chucked her hair up into a messy bun. She led back on her bed and glowered at the ceiling as though it was it's fault that her boyfriend didn't show up for their cinema trip.

Her phone buzzed and his name flashed on it's screen with a text message including his most sincere apology and a promise to make it up to her. Of course he would. She rolled her eyes and gave a brief text back forgiving him, stupidly as usual. Maybe she should be more uptight like Jeanne, scream at him when he refused to do things with her, cry down the phone at him when he was hanging with friends, threaten girls for looking at him.

No, because then he'd definitely leave her. Francis may have been a pushover with Jeanne but if Annie started acting like that, Arthur would have no problem with flipping her the finger and walking in the opposite direction. She sighed again and turned on her stomach, burying her face into her pillow with an aggravated muffled yell.

"Fucking stiff lip."

**((A/N: Err, this is pretty late ^^' Sorry!  
Raaargh! My poor baby Francis! I'm sorry for bullying you for the last few chapters, I'm so mean, I know **

**I'd just like to thank the people who have been reviewing and supporting the story, I'm so grateful for everyone's kind words and such, I freak out every time I see a review and although the story hasn't really been getting that many, it's really nice to see that people like it enough to favourite and alert it!  
I kind of stopped writing these author's note's for a while, didn't I? It's usually because as soon as I finish a chapter, I run away to upload it and start on the next ^^' I don't want to lose touch with the readers! I'm sorry Next chapter will be up soon and being mean to Francis should finish too in a few chapter's time ^^' I feel horrible for bullying my baby ))**


	14. Chapter 14

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter Fourteen ~ Disbelief

"Francis…"

"There. Lovely, non? If I do say so myself… Perhaps I'm a master with this little brush too," he chuckled. He was trying desperately to ignore the elderly woman led in the bed because he knew that he wouldn't want to hear what she wanted to say, he could tell from her tone. He refrained from looking her in the eye, instead he peered at the fingernails he had painted, pretending to admire his work. Her hair swayed slightly, indicating that she shook her head and Francis heard her laugh gently in a fond manner.

"Francis…."

"Really, I'm not sure why you don't wear pink more often. It suits you very well," he plowed on, trying to make sure he could distract her. He spent the whole weekend hearing adults talk about things he didn't want to hear in hushed voices as though they thought that way he wouldn't be able to hear them, he saw his Father glance at the broken elderly woman in the hospital bed with sad little glimpses before bowing his head and excusing himself before he broke down, he saw his Mother clasp her hand over her lips in shock when the Doctor spoke to her for the first time and saw her shake her head rapidly so that her curls whipped at her face slightly and tears spurted down her cheeks. He put up with it, he put on a brave face although he wanted to be able to excuse himself from the woman's side, he wanted to cry at the doctor and shake his head in horror. He wouldn't, he had to be strong for her. However, now it seemed as though the strongest person he knew was slowly accepting what they all murmured about in hushed tones and it made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Francis, mon cher, écouter s'il te plait." He paused and looked up at her. Her lip stuck out in a little pout, the creases in her face seemed more defined than usual, her dulled eyes were watered. For the first time, his Grandmother looked _old. _She swallowed and her thin lip trembled making his chest tighten with anxiety as he watched her try to pull those dear trembling lips into a small smile. She patted the space next to her and moved reluctantly farther to the other side of the bed. Francis got up slowly from the bedside chair and perched himself next to her, being careful not to make the bed jerk too much.

"Do you remember, mon cher, when the Doctor came to visit me and…?"

"And you called him a slut? Yes." She chuckled gently and shook her head at him.

"And I said I wasn't afraid of this anymore?" He swallowed and sighed before looking away and shaking his head, he needed to avert his eyes from this broken woman impersonating his strong Grandmother, he wanted to believe that she would laugh in his face for acting so serious and to proclaim loudly that she didn't believe anything the doctor's were saying, that he'd be long gone before she was.

"You see, I'm afraid I lied to you that day, mon cher, please look at me." Her hand went out and stroked his cheek, "I'm terrified of what they say, I know what's coming but I'm still frightened. There are so many things I wanted to see you do and I fear I might not be able to, I wanted to see you go through your education, become a five-star chef, or-or a world-class painter or a dancer or… I don't know, whatever you become. I wanted to see you meet your first love and be able to judge them because they'd never be good enough for my Francis, I wanted to hold the great-grandchildren you'd give me."

Tears began to roll down her cheeks, "Look at me, please Francis."

He reluctantly turned to see her, tears stung in his eyes but he forced them back, her claw-like hands were suddenly tender and stroked his cheek littered by stubble and made their way up by his hair before pushing a few loose strands behind his ear. He smiled gently and enclosed her dainty hands with her own artist ones,

"You speak like a dying woman," he murmured hoarsely.

"Mon cher… I am one." He shook his head and stroked the hand he had encased,

"Non. Non, don't say that. You'll get through it, you always pull through, you just have to think and speak positively," she looked at him sadly and pulled her wavering lips into a tight smile, tears continued to slide down her aged cheeks and the smile didn't reach her eyes, it wasn't believable at all, both of them knew that by smiling she was lying to them both.

"I-I'm sorry… I hope I'm not intruding," both looked at the door to reveal a stammering Englishman, hiding his blushing face behind a bouquet of flowers. Francis' eyebrows raised slightly and he smiled gently, Arthur had been back and forth to the hospital and visiting him. On the first night he had comforted his French friend whilst he shed a few tears when neither his parents nor his grandmother were looking, he had tactfully refused visiting the sick woman, stating that he didn't think it was his place to do so but it seemed like he had finally gained enough courage.

"Arthur?"

"Ah, so _this_ is Arthur," the old woman's hands quickly went to her face to wipe away any remnants of tears and winked at him cheekily, "Ah cher… I have heard plenty about you."

If it were possible, his face reddened and he looked away, embarrassed. Francis and his Grandmother both shared a chuckle and the old woman pulled herself up so that she sat straight, like royalty, she motioned towards the flowers and smiled pleasantly at the fumbling adolescent.

"Are those for me?" she asked pointedly, tilting her head slightly.

"Y-yes, and these too," he pulled a little plastic container out of his messenger bag that he had swung over his shoulder lazily, inside were little pastries that made Francis nervous.

"Arthur! My Grandmother's ill, don't try to poison her with your ludicrously terrible cooking, eh?"

"Gareth made them," he snapped and edged closer into the room, little-by-little, "They're Welshcakes and bloody good, git!"

The woman began to laugh, making the English boy jump and blink at her nervously, his embarrassment coming back as he watched her tilt her head back and chuckle, making her eyes crease with a smile. Once she calmed down she patted her grandson's knee,

"I can see why you like him, Francis. He's adorable, non? Come in, cher, there's no need to loiter so. Those flowers are gorgeous, thank you very much." He smiled and rubbed the crook of his neck uneasily before perching the plastic container on the bedside table and sitting the flowers in his lap. She blinked at him and arched a brow before lolling on her Grandson's shoulder.

"So have you come to peer at the poor cripple, Arthur? Did my Francis spin long and dreary tales about his poor grand-mere all locked up in hospital?" Arthur blinked hurriedly and shook his head quickly,

"No! No not at all. I-I just wanted to… I thought…" She snorted with laughter again and leant closer to the flustered younger boy, Francis sniggered slightly as he watched her motion for Arthur to lean closer and saw him reluctantly lean in, a blush prominent on his ivory skin. She smiled at him again and patted his head,

"Mon cher, I think I like you. You can stay, oui?"

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

"Well she's certainly a character," Arthur chuckled as he reached into his bag and produced a packet of cigarettes and lighter, Francis smiled gently as he observed the English boy. It was nice of Arthur to come. Antonio and Gilbert had mainly tried to focus on getting him out of the hospital and to some extent he was grateful for it, however, Arthur had made a big effort to meet the Grandmother Francis always spoke of and somehow completely enchanted her like he did Francis all those years ago when they were children. He attempted to light the cigarette but simply growled when he discovered he was out of gas in his lighter, Francis chuckled and grabbed the cigarette from him before twirling it thoughtfully around with his fingers.

"I really wish you'd stop smoking these cancer-sticks, Artie, they can't taste that nice," Arthur scoffed and nudged him playfully in the ribs before trying to snatch the 'cancer-stick' back from his companion.

"Of course they don't, they're a good stress-reliever is all." Francis shook his head before handing it back to the younger, his smile faltered slightly and the slight worried pout on his lips didn't go unnoticed by Arthur whom had been watching the French boy intently since he had heard what happened. He was terrified that his long-time rival and best friend would do if he got too depressed with situation.

"Don't make that face, idiot," he murmured, giving the other boy a feeble punch on the shoulder. Usually, Francis would have made an effort to at least chuckle but he simply shook his head and looked away sadly. Arthur looked up at his friend who simply pouted and looked in the distance like he was a protagonist in some ridiculously sad film.

"I'm worried, sourcils, she told me she was terrified and I-I just don't know what to do. I've never seen her like this, if it were my Mother or even my Father I would have expected it and been able to do something about their nerves but because it's her…It makes me scared too, see?"

Arthur's heavy brow puckered and his hand went out to clutch at the French boy's own, his eyes swiveled around, surveying the area in case anyone he knew was there and able to observe him in such a girlish state. His face flushed and he looked down at the crowd, using his thumb he rubbed at the elder's palm in a way he hoped to be comforting. Francis peered down at him uncertainly, his heart thumped behind his chest and he felt his own cheeks heat up.

"Don't be scared," Arthur mumbled. Francis felt the same surge of unexpected feelings that he had two years ago when he watched the younger sleep in their field underneath the summer's hazy sun, the same want he impulsively gave into that night when he separated them both for two years by recklessly acting underneath the lamplight. The hand that wasn't clutched in Arthur's own shakily made it's way up to scratch at his stubble anxiously.

"Sourcils…" he whispered, "I-I want to act selfishly again but I'm afraid you'll hate me for it."

Arthur paused before shaking his head, "I won't."

The hand that scratched at his chin went out and tilted the younger's head up so that he could look him in the eye, his thumb fit perfectly in the little dimple on his chin that he somehow managed to miss seeing before. Arthur's face practically glowed red, though of course, the English boy would retaliate by saying it was cold if Francis queried about the obvious blush.

"You promise?"

"Yes," Arthur replied, rather impatiently. He had an idea about what Francis meant but was still unsure and quite nervous about what the French boy meant. Francis hesitated slightly before leaning down and pressing his soft lips to Arthur's slightly chapped ones.

It was chaste and barely lasted a few seconds but Francis finally felt at ease for the time being, he watched the boy's eyes flutter open as he pulled back and saw how the same blush deepened. He smiled and pressed their foreheads together, feeling the warmth radiate off Arthur's face, the boy's green eyes stared at him and didn't falter although for once it wasn't a glare, the only thing he could see in Arthur's eyes was curiosity and anxiety. His hand that had clasped on the younger's chin softened and grasped his choppy hair instead, pulling on it softly.

"Thanks," he mumbled, Arthur watched as tears welled up in the other's eyes and rolled his own before brushing one that fell stubbornly down the boy's cheek a little too roughly with his thumb.

"Don't mention it, idiot."

**((A/N: ASDFGHJKLASDFGHJKLASDFGHJKLA SDFGHJKL**

**A kiss that didn't make me sad, yay~! This was so much fun to write ^^ I've been a ill with a cold so I've been trying to make the most of it and write a bit more of this. Pfft, who needs to catch up on missed schoolwork, eh?))**


	15. Chapter 15

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 15 ~ The Worst Feeling

Arthur Kirkland would argue that guilt was the worst feeling anyone could experience. Since that day, he had led keeled over under his blankets with his brow puckered and his lips pursed as he thought helplessly back to that single, chaste, almost meaningless moment that had started his guilt. He had been avoiding Annie since then, he couldn't look at her anymore without feeling his stomach churn with overwhelming remorse as she smiled at him unknowingly, flicked her hair and laughed with him, every time she'd look up flirtingly through her long eyelashes, he would see Francis as they pulled their lips away from each other. A sigh reverberated through his body as he groaned and rolled onto his back, his hand went out and pulled off the sheet now smothering his face and glared at the ceiling, as though it was it's fault that Arthur felt so terrible.

It was unfair on the girl he proclaimed to love, well, love to the extent a teenage boy can anyway. Every day, her texts grew more anxious although she tried to mask them with smiley faces and kisses. He would reply, a little too enthusiastically, and then quickly tap in an excuse to stop the conversation. In school she would bound over to him, her eyes gleaming with happiness and her lips pulled back into a smile only to be disappointed by her boyfriend hurriedly excusing himself from her side again. He knew hat he was hurting her and for a stupid reason too. After all, Francis was overly affectionate to all of his friends, wasn't he? He was upset too, probably wasn't even thinking straight. Overly affectionate and depressed would have obviously leaded to such a chaste, simple, miniscule, meaningless little kiss. Arthur was just thinking about it too much, if he had any sense he would quickly text his Annie and run to her and make sure his obvious odd behaviour meant nothing anymore.

He reached for his phone and looked blankly at her name in his contact's list, all he had to do was will his fingers to type out a simple message to her and then he could forget everything. However, he was incapable of doing so. His brow furrowed and he tossed the phone away before rolling onto his side and cradling himself like a child.

.||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

Antonio would argue that the incapability to be able to calm his friends was the worst feeling anyone could experience. Francis was unreachable now, he would attempt to smile and joke along with two friends but his words came out in a strained, cracked monotone and his eyes seemed empty. Even when Antonio attempted to console his friend by wrapping his arm's around the French boy's waist and lolling his head on his shoulder, Francis would only smile slightly before murmuring his apologies.

The Spaniard didn't want him to apologize. He just wanted his friend to be back to normal, he wanted his Grandmother to get over whatever illness she may have so that Francis would be happy again. It hurt to watch him nowadays, it seemed as though every little gesture the Frenchman did was a struggle and not worth it. Antonio tried everything to make his friend happy again. He would crack jokes, be purposefully stupid, hold him when he noticed he was having a particularly bad day, play with his hair, offer to take him out on casual daytrips. None of this was worth the effort. Francis was hardly anywhere but school and the hospital now, he would take the bus to visit his Grandmother as soon as the school bell rang and would return home at ridiculous times at night to have a shower and cram in a few hours of sleep.

It was wreaking havoc on his health, on his education, on his social life. It seemed as though everything was being cruelly stolen from the French boy and there was nothing Antonio could do to stop it. He felt useless, he knew he should be able to calm Francis but there was something there stopping him from doing so.

Not only that but Gilbert was obviously worn out by the whole ordeal, he barely spoke around the two now as though he was afraid he'd say something wrong. His expression was now mainly reminiscent of Bambi on a minefield, he would occasionally burst out into obnoxious laughter now and again and say something crude but then would pause as though remembering something and shrink back into himself.

Antonio prided himself on being the peacekeeper, the one who could smooth anything out by a clever choice of words. However, he now knew that wasn't the case as it seemed that no clever choice of words would be able to fix his friends. At least, not for the time being anyway.

.||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

Gareth would argue that feeling useless was the worst feeling anyone could experience. His whole family was crumbling around him and he could do nothing but remain stoic and uncaring. Arthur had barely come out of his room for the past few days and when asked about it he would roll his eyes and yell for everyone to just leave him alone. Gareth had a slight suspicion that it was Francis again, for some reason the French boy seemed to always make an impact on his youngest brother, it varied however. Sometimes just seeing Francis would make the boy smile and sometimes even willingly help around the house without any complaint . However on the other side of the scale, sometimes just seeing Francis would make the boy shrink into himself and lock away in his bedroom in an angst-ridden strop.

Then of course there was his Mother and that worthless douchebag Brain who played the part of the 'excited new Father.' Every time he saw the two cuddled up, with his Mother's head lolling on the man's shoulder and his hand on her swelling stomach, he had to force himself not to strike the man and throw him out like he had done to so many of her other boyfriends. The Father-to-be had sidled up to Gareth, supposedly looking for 'manly empathy', and confided that he didn't want anything to do with it.

"I mean, I've got my whole life ahead of me," he had said with a wry smile, "I never wanted to be tied down like this. She's persistent on keeping the kid, maybe you could convince her to…"

Gareth had obviously snapped, "Maybe you should have thought of that before you slept with my Mam. I swear to God Brian, if you leave her like all the rest of her asshole's have then I will personally find you and castrate you, understand? This is your mess, you take care of it."

Perhaps he had been too harsh on the man. However, as he sat up in the night with his Mother whenever she was feeling nauseous, Gareth couldn't help but bitterly think that the baby's Father ought to be there instead of the Mother's other son. He knew that as soon as things would go rough, Brian would quit and leave them all. That's what always happened, he had grown to accept that. He just wished his Mother would learn.

He needed Angus there with him. He didn't want all the pressure on his shoulders anymore, the pressure of keeping the home environment light and happy for his younger brothers. He wanted to go out and pull women, he wanted to drink and have fun like every other normal teenage boy. Instead, he was stuck at home, doing all the domestic things adult's were meant to take care of and feeling completely useless.

.||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

Francis would argue that feeling helpless was the worst feeling anyone could experience. He watched as his friend's pitied him, adult's tried to keep their lips pursed in a smile around him and his Grandmother slowly gave up, little by little. He was no longer the admirable Francis Bonnefoy who everyone watched and learned from, he was the pathetic little French boy that couldn't handle the truth and pined at an old woman's bedside. He smiled at her that night and held her hand as Doctor's rushed in and out, she was breathing heavily and sweat fell from her brow but she gave him a shaky smile in return. His Mother pulled at his arm desperately, murmuring that they needed to leave but he knew it was just because she wanted to protect him from what was inevitably coming slowly but surely.

"Ne me…Ne me…" the elderly woman started to stutter as she attempted to sing, a smile gracing her face. His Mother ceased her pulling and stopped, her lips parted slightly and tears streaked down her face.

"Ne me quitte pas," Francis finished, smiling back.

"Il faut…"

"Il faut oublier, tout peut s'oublier…"

A team of nurses hurried to her bedside, their hands felt her hand and their voices screamed for assistance. Francis' Mother's tugs became more incessant now and, still sobbing, she yelled at him to follow her but the boy sat almost shell-shocked. It wasn't only until the stern hand belonging to his Father came down on his shoulder did he bow his head and leave with his parents. The Doctors hadn't said much, only that they would try very hard to figure out what was going on with her and why her state seemed to randomly deteriorate and suggested that they go home.

The car was very quiet. His Father drove on tight-lipped and rigidly turned the wheel and went for the gears, almost looking robotic as he drove. The only noise was his Mother's pathetic little snuffles as she tried to choke back sobs, her head was buried in her hands and every now and then her shoulders would shake, almost like she was laughing. Francis sat in the back, looking out at the dark roads illuminated by streetlamps. He couldn't cry, he couldn't act stern, he just sat there and thought. He didn't know what else he was meant to do.

.||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

Annie would argue that feeling jealous was the worst feeling anyone could experience. For once, she understood why Jeanne seemed so demented all the time, she kind of emphasized with the French girl. However, she didn't want to turn out like that. She didn't want to ring up Arthur every twenty minutes demanding to know what he was doing, who he was with, when he'd be back… She was better than that, she trusted Arthur. She could have whatever boy she wanted, she was one of the most pursued girls in that area but Arthur never kicked up a fuss about that so she knew the least she could do was respect him the same way.

That was why she went over to his house and calmly approached him instead. She knew what she really had to do, it was obvious, but it didn't make it any easier. He sat awkwardly on the edge of his bed with jeans lazily thrown on and his hair scruffily ruffled, she smiled fondly at him as he tried to avoid her eyes. They both knew what really had to happen, it was obvious. She ran her hand through his hair and he smiled a little wryly before pulling her onto his lap. She let her head fall against his chest before saying with brilliant clarity that filled the room.

"I think we both know why I'm here, stiff lip," he smiled again at the nickname before balancing his chin on top of her head so that her wavy hair tickled his skin slightly.

"How do you want me to say it? Full of clichés and stuff, y'know, the typical 'it's not you it's me'? Or what about 'We just weren't meant to be'? You choose," he laughed before shrugging.

"Maybe we should just accept it's over now and then you don't even have to say anything, yeah?" he muttered amusedly, stroking her hair gently so that the waves weaved with his fingers. He chuckled as she slapped her knee and pouted,

"Damn, and I had a song all picked out in case you wanted me to serenade you, stiff lip."

Now, she didn't have to feel jealous. They could both do whatever they wanted. She could go back to being the most pursued bachelorette around and her beloved stiff lip could hole himself away without the guilt in the back of his mind.

.||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

The elderly woman would argue that release was the best feeling anyone could experience. She stared past all the anxious doctor's faces and grinned to herself. She had been terrified for the past few days, she hurriedly remembered every wrong thing she had done in her lifetime, all the bad things she might be remembered for, whether or not she would even be remembered, what would happen when she had passed. Now, acceptance washed over her as she blinked at the light they were shining in her face. She would be with past friends, family, lovers… She grinned in anticipation.

Her beloved husband that had been taken from her a lifetime ago. She would be with him. She had already seen her own son grow into a respectable man with a lovely wife and a beautiful family and now she could observe Francis with her love by her side. Her hands that had once shook with terror now balled into fists as she waited. Sometimes, you just know. She knew now would be her last few moments.

"Miss Bonnefoy?" a doctor to her right called as a nurse clutched at her hands, "Miss Bonnefoy, can you hear me?"

She tried to answer but fell short, her tongue betrayed her and no noise came out as her lips parted, only heavy breaths escaped them.

"We're loosing her."

She was ready. She was prepared.

"She's…She's gone."

She had released. She was no longer the poor bed-ridden Grandmother Bonnefoy. She was back to being the strong, sexy, independent Estelle Bonnefoy.

She was ready.

**((A/N: Bye Francis' Grandmother :c I'll miss writing you~!  
I'm really sad to have to write this I loved the character. Ermm.. Yeah. So I tried out a new style for this chapter, I just thought that it'd be a fool-proof way of conveying what they were all thinking and stuff at this time. I hope you enjoyed it~ The song Francis sang was called 'Ne me quitte pas'. I recommend listening to it at some point, it's really pretty!) **


	16. Chapter 16

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 16 ~ Comforting Hands

Arthur had grown used to having the overbearing Spaniard ringing him up at ungodly hours in the day to update him on Francis, he was glad to have the support from Antonio, it was a comfort to know that there were other people thinking about the French boy as much as he was. However, when he answered the phone this time, the boy's tone wasn't happy at all, it showed no trace of any cheerfulness that automatically set off alarm bells. Not only that, he was phoning at a semi-reasonable hour. His blood ran cold as he listened out for the Spaniard to laugh, to make a guess that Arthur was worried and make fun of him but it never came. Instead Antonio heaved a sigh and murmured,

"She's gone," Arthur's brows knitted together and he fell back on his bed.

"Oh," was all he could manage in response. He turned onto his side and looked out the window, perhaps it was a bit too late to run over to Francis' house and demand to speak to him. Breaking his train of thought, Antonio started to speak again, although his tone was still thick with sadness, he tried to sound a little more optimistic.

"Listen Arthur, Gil and I were talking and we're going to visit Francis tomorrow. We want you to come if you're free, I'm sure he'd like to see you," Arthur arched a heavy eyebrow but smiled a little. He hadn't been able to face Francis since they kissed, he sent Eoghan over to him now and again, laden down with presents he had Gareth help him make when his elder brother wasn't busy but hadn't had any real contact with the French boy, aside from the occasional phone call. His chest heaved a little guiltily, he was meant to be thinking about how to cheer Francis up, and not how lovely it would to see him.

"I… Okay, that'd be…fine. What time should I meet you?"

So, the next morning Arthur got up early and purposefully had a very long shower, attempted to flatten down his untamable hair and dressed in clothes that were the least likely to offend Francis and his strong sense of fashion. He glared a little despairingly at his prominent brow but made no attempt to shift in, instead he attempted to try and cover them with his hair but to no avail. He got out of the house before any of his brother's noticed so he wouldn't be lectured on not taking the time to have breakfast and wrote a quick note explaining himself.

He met Antonio and Gilbert halfway from his house and Francis' house. The two looked, annoyingly, effortlessly perfect once more and stuck out like a sore thumb so there was no chance in him missing them. He ducked his head and approached them coyly; Gilbert was a little apprehensive and stood still with his arms crossed across his chest, his scarlet eyes quickly scanning over the embarrassed English boy. However, when Antonio was quick to wrap his arms around Arthur and offer him a melodramatic greeting, Gilbert reluctantly shrugged and continued on with his egotistical persona and clapped the younger boy on the shoulder in a way he hoped was comforting.

When they reached the door, his gentle Mother or his seemingly stern Father didn't greet them, instead the door was answered by a very lean, very glamorous, very… _French_ woman. Her dirty blonde hair was twisted into a top bun and a few strands fell framing an elegant face, her rouged lips pursed a little as she looked them up and down and her perfectly trimmed brows raised an inch up her face. She smiled a little,

"Francis?" she queried, her voice was thick with a Parisian's accent. Antonio gave a little nod and flashed her a charismatic grin, the woman stepped aside and motioned up the stairs before closing the door behind them as they stepped in. Gilbert tugged at the Spaniard's sleeve as they made their way upstairs,

"Who was that?" he mumbled, Arthur craned his neck to listen too, also curious about the woman downstairs that he hadn't met before.

"His Mother's sister, they needed someone to kind of… chaperone them while they all grieved separately so she volunteered to come over. Poor girl, apparently English isn't her strongest subject so if she seems a bit offhand with you, she probably just don't know what you're talking about, okay?" he chuckled as they made their way outside Francis' room.

The door was shut and it suddenly seemed as though the three were somehow frozen to the spot as they glared out the ebony frame with distaste. After a while of doing so, Gilbert obnoxiously pushed past and opened it without remembering to knock.

The room was empty. The only light came from a small chink in the drawn curtains and it had coldness about it, there were a few random items of clothing lazily strewn across the floor and a mug placed precariously on his windowpane with cold tea inside it. After a while of looking around, Arthur's brow furrowed in confusion and looked quizzically over at Antonio who looked just about as confused as him, Gilbert walked straight through and perched on the bed. He shrugged up at the two others who stared at him incredulously and then his lips broke into a grin.

"Oh… You came to visit me?" Arthur jumped and a light blush dusted over his cheeks as Antonio chuckled and turned on his heels before wrapping his arms heartily around the lean French boy who stood behind them. Francis patted his head and then ushered them in, he made his way over to his bed and perched beside the albino. There was a very tense silence, Francis stared straight at Arthur who attempted staring back but quickly turned his head down and looked at his feet instead.

The French boy didn't look good. His skin had a grey-tinge to it as if he were ill, his eyes were rimmed with pink like he had been crying and his hair was scruffy due to the fact he hadn't brushed it since the night. Frankly, he looked a mess. It was unusual to see the one who usually spent all his time and efforts on looking good, look terrible. Gilbert smiled a little at him unsure what else to do but Antonio sighed and dashed straight to the French boy's side, he put his arm around him and allowed Francis to loll his head on his shoulder and snivel slightly. Arthur stood awkwardly by the door before tactfully closing it, knowing that if his parents happened to walk by, seeing their son look so downtrodden and surrounded by boys attempting to look sympathetic wasn't what they needed right now, especially as they would be mourning themselves.

Antonio ran his hands through the golden hair that looked too limp to belong to Francis and cooed gently, Gilbert and Arthur exchanged uncomfortable looks for a brief moment but listened intently as Francis began to murmur, only coherent if they craned their necks and were quiet.

"They…They said she died an hour after we left, said that it was probably a relief for her now and that there was nothing they could do," tears sprung to his eyes again and his voice started to sound gruff, "If we stayed a little while longer, I could have said goodbye properly, I could have made sure they did everything."

"Shush Francis," Antonio muttered gently, giving his friend's shoulder a squeeze, "I'm sure they did all they could, she's in a better place now, right?"

Gilbert coughed uncomfortably, "Yeah.. Yeah what Tony said."

Antonio's eyes flicked over to the albino before giving a little crooked smile, it was nice to see him make an effort to comfort their mutual friend, even though he did a horrendous job of it. It was Arthur he was more concerned about, the younger boy stood a little way away from them all and shuffled his feet uncertainly. He knew Francis wanted to see Arthur the most but there was no way that the timid boy would come over and try to comfort him if the two other members of the trio were still there. So, Antonio got up and looked pointedly at Gilbert before grabbing the albino's hand and dragging him off with him after cheerily announcing he was going to make some tea for everyone.

Arthur scowled at them as they left, knowing that Antonio did it on purpose. It was only when Francis gave out a small choked out sob did he turn back to look at him and felt his chest tighten. Francis looked up at him, his eyes shining and more tears threatening to slide down those pretty cheeks of his. The younger boy sighed before slowly making his way over and reluctantly standing over the other male. Francis continued to stare at him unfalteringly as Arthur's hand went up and scratched the back of his neck uncertainly,

"Jesus Frog, did you get any sleep last night? You look half dead," his words weren't comforting like Antonio's, he had mentally rehearsed clichéd condolences a thousand times but for some reason they wouldn't come. Francis' brow puckered but he laughed a little bit nevertheless, Arthur started to smile for a split second too only until his companion brought up the topic he had been so wholeheartedly trying to avoid.

"Arthur… I'm sorry for kissing…"

"It doesn't matter," he said abruptly, causing Francis to raise an eyebrow at him confusedly, "Don't worry about it."

Francis continued to stare at him quizzically for a moment. Usually, Arthur blew everything out of proportion and acted melodramatically over every little thing. However, now he seemed to be acting _too_ reasonable. A blush was prominent on the English boy's pale cheeks as he looked away, not being able to stare out his companion for too long.

"I… I feel pathetic, Arthur. If she were here, looking at me and such, she'd laugh straight in my face and tell me to grow up. I know she wouldn't want me to be like this but…" tears fell, staining Francis' cheeks, "I don't know. I just… I don't know."

"Hey," Arthur mumbled sternly, wiping away one of the tears that had just spurted from those pretty blue eyes, even if they were bloodshot and rimmed with bags from a tiresome night. He got on his knees so he was level with Francis' face and gave a weak smile, "Enough of that. It's perfectly understandable that you're sad, she was a very remarkable woman and everyone knew how close you were to her. You're not pathetic, so don't even think it, okay?"

Francis gave a weak nod and outstretched his arms, "Even so, Sourcils…"

"What?"

"Can I have a hug?"

Arthur laughed a little, "Are you being serious, frog?"

However, when the French boy blinked up at him with his teary bloodshot eyes, he realised that Francis was in fact being deadly serious. At first he was going to bitterly refuse in the harsh way he usually would have but seeing his friend, sometimes rival, look so weak tugged on his heartstrings, although of course he would never admit this. He rolled his eyes before giving him a reluctant nod. Francis' lips quirked into a little smile and he pulled the younger in by his waist and onto his lap, ignoring the string of curses and protests that came from the other boy's lips he rested his head in the nape of Arthur's neck and smiled gently. A delightful blush dusted the English boy's cheeks and embarrassment radiated from his small frame.

"Thank you, Sourcils."

"Bloody Frog."

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

"Look at him! I always knew Francis was on that side of the fence, he's always messing around with his hair!"

"Gil, calm down. They've been friends since they were younger, maybe that's just how they act around each other? You can't deny the fact that you _love_ a good cuddle now and…"

"Hey! Hey! Hey! No, that's not awesome, I've never… Look whatever. Look at them, Tony! He's practically giving the poor kid a hickey! _Arthur!_ Should we rescue him? Should we get childline? Then again… Francis hasn't gotten lucky in a while and…"

"Excusez-moi, avez-vous besoin d'aide?" The two jumped guiltily and turned very slowly to be greeted by the concerned face of the pretty Aunt that had let them in only a while ago. Antonio bit his lip and racked his brain quickly for things he had learnt in his French class, though of course he rarely paid much attention as he was prone to daydream. He had to stop himself from speaking in Spanish to her in a blind panic but instead stuttered out his apologies in broken French. The woman smiled amusedly before nodding at the door,

"Francis?"

"Oui!" Antonio said hurriedly, trying to maintain the smile on his face, "J-je vais faire… er… tea."

"Tea?" she smiled, mimicking the action of pouring a teapot, Antonio attempted to reply again, quickly getting more an more flustered as Gilbert glared at him in an attempt to silently will the Spaniard to suddenly recall all the lessons he ever had in GCSE French, however, the more the woman and Gilbert glared the more Antonio got flustered and tripped over his words. It was only put to rest when the woman started to laugh and clapped his shoulder,

"D'accord… We will do tea."

"So much for not knowing a word of English, Tony. She speaks it better than you."

**((A/N: HAPPY *insert festive holiday name that you celebrate here plz***

**I wanted to get this done before Christmas so I'm happy I got to ^^ I hope you all enjoyed it, I'm trying not to make the story too depressing though it seems to be going down tha**t **route, doesn't it? I swear it'll get happier soon!**

**I took French last year but I dropped it when I hade to choose my options because it was in the same column as music, so I took Italian instead ^^' Writing Antonio speaking French is much how I speak it nowadays, I was quite good at it last year but now I just sound stupid when I try to speak it… I avoid it because I don't want to offend anyone with my horrendous attempts XD**

**Ahhh~ I procrastinated a lot on this one, but I hope you like it anyway! Please tell me what you thought, if you liked it or if you have any critiques. I'm a feedback whore, okay?))**


	17. Chapter 17

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 17 ~ Finally

"Hush little baby don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird..."

Repulsive.

"And if that mockingbird don't sing, Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring..."

How stupid.

Arthur could hear her singing from his room. In his opinion, although it seemed as though it didn't count much any more, she shouldn't romanticise with the idea of this new child. Another strapping boy, she said, another fucking bouncing baby boy... Oh, he wasn't jealous. Arthur was better than that, however, from how cold Gareth had began to act towards Brian nowadays, he knew this new baby was going to end up just like the rest of them, bitter, jaded and without a Father. He couldn't look at his Mother without bile raising up into his throat any more, she was practically middle aged, he thought she was over making stupid teenage mistakes but now another innocent kid was going to be dragged into the mess she made and Arthur was still unsure whether or not he could _be_ a big brother. His own brothers made it seem so simple, tease them, chuck them around a bit so they know where they stand in the pecking order, simple right? But then he thought about how Angus made sure to ring the house once a week and speak to all of them for at least twenty minutes in turn. How Eoghan would check up on him in school and glance around in a manner that was meant to be threatening so others knew not to pick on Arthur, although he really had no trouble with bullies anyway. How Gareth's eyes seemed more sunken in nowadays as dark rings decorated the skin beneath them and he seemed to be losing weight, but he continued to work hard in college and still persisted to cook for the household and cater to their Mother's odd cravings.

With all the crap going on with Francis, Arthur almost forgot about his own family issues for a while. He looked outside the window and tilted his head musingly, it was his Grandmother's funeral today, he'd be entertaining family members who had come over from France and trying to look strong. Sighing, Arthur opened the window despite the fact it was bitterly freezing in his room already and glared out behind the glass with a bored expression on his face. The sound of cars and yelling teenagers filled the area and _almost_ drowned out his Mother's incessant singing.

He sighed and fell back on his bed, spread eagled on the tangled mass of bedsheets and grabbed a pillow to cover his face, anything to stop hearing that bloody nursery rhyme again.

"Who sings to an unborn baby, anyway?" he grumbled to himself, oblivious to another figure slinking into the room like a cat. It was only until a rough hand grabbed at the pillow covering his face did he become aware someone was with him. He was about to yell but refrained from doing so when he recognised his uninvited visitor. Scruffily styled orange spikes glared down at him, a crooked grin was spread over a pale and very lightly freckled face, green eyes that were identical to his narrowed into a crescent shape and there was an overwhelming scent of tobacco and aftershave.

"Oi," Angus shook him slightly, "Nice to see you too, mate. Your poor brother has been left to fend for himself in the wild of Uni and Scotland and you can't even be bothered to come and welcome him in."

Arthur's brow furrowed as he sat up, smiling gently, "I didn't think you'd be down here for a while."

Angus shrugged before nodding at the pillow and then at the wall opposite, "You're trying to block her out too? She's not exactly ready for the X Factor quite yet, but she has potential in err, baby songs. Then again, I guess she's had enough experience, right?" Arthur bit back a laugh. Gareth had been fiercely defensive of their Mother recently, it was nice to be bitter along with someone else.

"Why are you here then?" Arthur said chuckling a little, "Thought you were loving it in the Motherland."

Angus suddenly got a little uncomfortable as he awkwardly perched on his youngest brother's bed, he ran a hand through his hair and bit his lip a little. He looked mature, as if brotherly nature had kicked in on a hyper mode, he tried to smile at Arthur at first but then sighed and clapped his shoulder slightly.

"Eoghan's worried about you and Mummy Gareth, he said that you've broke it off with Annie," he paused and raised his eyebrows at his younger brother despairingly, "And that you're being a hermit, only surfacing to visit Francis and cheer him up because his...Nan, is it? Well anyway, someone's died. Then there's Gareth working his little Welsh fingers to the bone, trying to cater to Mum's needs, make sure you both are all fed and healthy..."

Arthur looked away a little uncomfortably, Angus kept his eyes on his youngest brother and sighed, giving him a little nudge with his elbow then rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm not going to question anything that's going on with you and Francis, but can't you just... Just _try_ to help out around the house? Not even cleaning or anything, just simple things like making your own food, popping out of your room every now and then so they all know you're still alive."

"You're up in bloody Scotland, you have no right to talk about not helping around the house, you're miles away while we're stuck here watching Mum be an idiot," Angus seemed to get angry for a minute but then took a breath and resignedly chucked an arm lazily around his little brother's shoulders and brought him closer to his strong, musky scent. Arthur struggle a little but then subjected himself to it, their family was never one for hugs and kisses, displays of affection seemed to be a taboo subject in the Kirkland household but he didn't really think about it too much until he was forced to face it.

"I've had to watch her be an idiot three times over," he murmured, a chuckle edging in on his voice, "And for God's sake don't hope that it gets better, because it doesn't. You get a sibling you didn't want screaming at unholy hours in the morning and night."

He paused and then let his grin broaden, "But no matter how much you end up wanting to _strangle_ the little bugger, you get too attached to it so you can't even do that."

"What if I don't like it? What if I'm as crap a brother as you and Eoghan?" Arthur murmured teasingly, his brother let out an indignant yell before laughing along with the English boy.

"I thought I wouldn't like you lot at all, when Mum said Gareth was coming I flipped my shit, now I think we get on okay, don't we?" Arthur shrugged dismissively as his brother stood up and gave him a grin,

"Well, I'm going to leave you here for the night as long as you promise to drag your ass out of bed to have an overbearing family breakfast with us all in the morning that _I'll_ be making."

"Somehow I don't feel like catching some sort of stomach bug," Arthur sniggered as he spread out on his bed again, making the elder shake his head and give out another laugh before leaving him alone.

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

He must have fallen asleep. He knew this because one minute he was going over his conversation with his brother, the next it was dark outside and he had a groggy feeling settling over him. He was vaguely aware of over excited voices downstairs and Eoghan practically squealing, he felt a grow arise in his chest as he nuzzled into the pillow behind his head, his eyes still heavy with tiredness. Reluctantly he sat up to take his shirt off that clung uncomfortably at his body before huddling underneath his sheets. Just when he found himself nearly drifting back to sleep a knock came at his door, he groaned hoping that the invader would take the hint and leave him alone to no avail. Another knock followed, louder this time and more persistent.

Grudgingly so, Arthur got out of his bed and lazily sloped to the door before opening it with a scowl prominent on his face only to be surprised by the seemingly triumphant tear stained face of Francis Bonnefoy. His eyes widened slightly but he simply opened the door a little wider for the French boy to walk through, he flicked the light on then shut the door behind them both, knowing that if he didn't Eoghan would soon be trying to edge inside to sneak a glimpse at a third of the Bad Touch Trio.

Francis sat down on the edge of Arthur's bed and looked around the room a little self consciously. He was dressed smartly in a white button down shirt, a blazer and some smart trousers, His blue eyes were rimmed with pink, though they seemed to be permanently bloodshot nowadays, his skin seemed sickly pale and he looked as though he was trying too hard to look nonchalant. Arthur just stood, leaning slightly on his door, as he tilted his head at the French boy.

"What's up?" he murmured.

"Can I stay the night?" Francis said, cutting to the chase, still not looking the Brit in the eye. Arthur raised a brow before shrugging, looking the other boy dead in the face, trying to guess what was going on in his head but not getting anywhere with his estimations, he shuffled on the spot slightly, trying to catch the other's attention.

"Yeah, if you want..." Francis smiled before looking down at the ground, he let out a breathy chuckle before standing up and sauntering over to Arthur. He swaggered and wavered a little whilst he walked, Arthur assumed he might have been drinking but soon as the French boy came closer he could detect no trace of alcohol on his breath, just coffee.

Suddenly, Francis was too close for comfort and Arthur became very aware that he had taken his shirt off, when the French boy was barely a few feet away from him, he skirted to the side a little before brashly pulling the top over his head and began to bumble and stammer like an idiot.

"I guess you're sad because today's y'know the funeral and..."

"Arthur."

"I mean, you have every right to be! Next time maybe text me though? God Frog, so inconsiderate..."

"Arthur."

"Maybe I shouldn't have said that, what I mean is.."

"Arthur!" Francis chuckled, somehow having made his way over to Arthur whilst he had been stammering and rested his hand on the younger's cheek, "Cher, your shirt is inside out and the wrong way," he tugged at the tag sticking out underneath Arthur's pointed, almost girly chin with a broad grin spread over his face. Blood flooded to his face and made his cheeks flush in a prominent blush as he began to laugh too. Francis raised a brow at him and smiled,

"Why so jittery?" he murmured. Arthur shook his head and smiled before denying the French boy's observation, "Arthur, do I make you uncomfortable now?"

The younger shook his head again, becoming indignant as he rolled his eyes and gave the other a punch to the shoulder, "Oh shut up, frog, of course not. It's just we've been a little er... More open, recently and it's odd. Okay? Nothing to worry about, you haven't done anything okay?" Francis arched a brow before inching in, his face close enough so that Arthur felt his breath on his cheeks and lips.

"Is that bad?" Arthur shook his head for no and Francis moved closer still before hesitating and murmuring, "So er... You don't object to me being this close?"

Arthur knew he probably should, but he couldn't bring himself to deny the warmth of the Frog's breath. He shook his head again as Francis brushed a stray lock of hair out of the boy's green eyes and smiled a little nervously, "And if I did this?"

He felt a chaste pressure on his lips and a hand on his cheek, the moment finished too early as Francis pulled back slowly, almost as if he was taunting him. Francis gave a nervous chuckle before shaking his head and looking at the ground,

"Sorry, that was stupid of me..." Arthur shook his head again and grabbed the other's hand making Francis' head snap back up and their line of vision to collide with each other. The elder smiled before putting his spare hand behind Arthur's head and bringing him into another kiss. It was chaste again to begin with but then Arthur began to kiss back with more pressure than before.

The kiss deepened, mouths moved in unison together and Arthur felt the other's tongue softly graze his bottom lip before invading his mouth. Tongues danced together, entwining and twisting in some sort of unsure frenzy. He pulled back roughly, breathing in as much air as he could, his chest heaving and pants reverberating through his body. He smiled gently as Francis' hand brushed at his hip and their foreheads rested on each other.

"Bloody Frog..."


	18. Chapter 18

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 18 ~ Morning

Arthur woke to someone shaking him gently. He felt very warm, warmer than he had felt before in the morning. He was tangled in a mess of sheets and limbs and the sun poured through a chink in his window casting a sweet feel to the room. He didn't want to wake up fully, he liked being in this sleepy haze because it wasn't like anything he had experienced before. So, he let out a groan and turned away from the source of the shaking, pulling his blanket over the bare skin that had peaked out from underneath the sheets. The person shaking him let out a throaty chuckle and pecked his cheek, trying to will the little Englishman to wake up. Arthur's brows knitted together as he tried mentally will the person to bugger off so he could go back to sleep and stay this way.

"Artie, Angus is calling you down for breakfast," the voice had a slight accent and gruffness to it and Arthur finally remembered what happened, why it was so warm. He turned to confirm his musings and was proved right when he saw a chiselled jaw, blue eyes and soft blond waves. He blinked a little uncertainly before poking at the other's face, just to make sure he was physically there and Arthur wasn't dreaming the warmth. His company laughed again before wrapping his arms around the smaller bow and pulling him on to his chest.

"Jesus Christ," Arthur murmured giving a feeble punch, "Was that necessary, frog?"

"Completely," came Francis' reply as he smiled up at the boy above him. His eyes scanned the other's face, his cheeks were a little pink and he was rolling his eyes with his eyebrows pulled together, had he stopped there he might have assumed Arthur was angry with him but realised that the boy had a smirk on his lips and lowered his face to rest on Francis' shoulder.

"Douche," he murmured before burrowing his head into the crook of the French boy's neck, Francis gave a small smile, his hands went to Arthur's hair as he twiddled it around his fingers before glancing up at the ceiling absent-mindedly. Arthur pulled back again before murmuring,

"We'd better go down otherwise he'll be up here and screaming," he sniggered a little, "And I'm not sure how pleased he would be to see me in such an uncompromising position."

Francis smiled a little before tightening his grip, "Not until I get a kiss, sourcils."

"Oh for fuck sake are you being serious?" Francis blinked up at him, his face the picture of innocence as he smiled angelically. Arthur cursed a little more under his breath before pecking the other on the lips chastely. "Now hurry _up_."

.|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||.

Angus was trying his best. He had gotten up earlier than anyone else, had set his alarm and all. He wasn't too bad a cook, not as terrible as Arthur but not as good as Gareth. None of the Kirkland brothers were exactly culinary geniuses, their diet consisted of foods you can shove under the grill and take out in a matter of minutes. He remembered his Mother being pretty good at cooking, she used to cook all the time, her face would light up as ingredients would splatter her skin and clothes in the rush she assembled them all in. She had stopped when he was about four, getting too weary to bother and just buying microwave meals and instant foods. Angus tried to cook at first when he got to about thirteen but soon enough Gareth dismissed him from the kitchen and made him promise never to step foot in there again.

He hadn't done too bad so far but then again all he'd done was make the pancake batter, he was a bit hesitant to go ahead and actually put it in the pan and try and make them. Instead he busied himself by boiling the kettle about five times before bravely putting the batter in the pan and finally cooking the batter. He didn't attempt to flip it, just used a spatula to turn it over very cautiously. In all honesty, he was pretty proud of how they came out, sure, they had a bit of a brown tinge to them where he had obviously overcooked them a little but otherwise were a pretty decent batch of pancakes.

He called up a few minutes after he cleaned the kitchen table of random papers his brothers had managed to scatter around the house and laid down a tablecloth that had been collecting dust in the top shelf no one bothered to go in any more. Eoghan came down first with a wry smile on his face, his lip twitching a little as he saw the pancakes as if he was trying to hold back a comment that was burning on his tongue and tickling his closed lips. He was closely followed by Gareth who smiled a little at his elder brother before glancing over at the dishes a little anxiously. His Mother and Arthur took longer to come down, Arthur accompanied by Francis who had borrowed a pair of shabby pyjamas.

They all huddled around the over-crowded table and Angus served each pancake tentatively before boiling the kettle for the sixth time to make everyone tea. Eoghan watched him, his eyebrows raised a little amusedly, it was obvious the eldest brother was going through a lot of effort to put it all together, the Sottish boy would nervously smile and his eyebrow twitched slightly now and again. His eyes scanned over to Gareth who was watching the eldest blunder around the kitchen looking slightly concerned, his eyes looked mournfully at the spot-welded pans and he couldn't help but attempt to offer his assistance with making the tea but was quickly shot down by Angus' scathing tone.

Francis sat quietly looking a little nervously at the pancake on the plate but smiled even so, from the corner of his eye he could see Arthur sniggering slightly but plunged into the challenge of eating the whole thing without vomiting the whole thing back up or showing his distaste on his face. Their Mother had yet to come downstairs even though Angus had called her about three times now, they ate silently although it was obvious that the Scottish boy's eyes would flicker agitatedly to the door every now and then. Finally, she came downstairs, her cheeks a little flushed and accompanied by Brian. Gareth automatically stiffened as he glared at the man next to his Mother but continued to eat the food Angus had made for him.

"Nice food boys?" Francis hadn't met him yet but from the first impression all he really got from the man was that he was pretty average. He spoke with a rough, cockney accent, his hair was short and flat against his head and he had some untidy stubble climbing it's way up his face. He looked around the brothers and was shocked to see that none of them had acknowledged that Brian had spoke, he nudged Arthur a little but the younger boy just gave a slight jerk of the head and continued eating. Their Mother opened her mouth to speak, her brow furrowed and her cheeks heating up a little more but was cut off by the man who had obviously not picked up on the uneasy atmosphere.

"Who's this then?" he said, nodding his head at Francis a little. Francis smiled, ready to introduce himself but was stopped abruptly by Arthur,

"A friend," he murmured, looking up at Brian through his eyelashes as he reached across the table to grab some more syrup. Brian raised his eyebrows a little amusedly before smirking at Arthur,

"Can't he speak for himself?" There was a silence. Francis glanced around a little nervously before looking up at the man reluctantly, unsure what to do.

"Francis Bonnefoy.," he said politely with a gentle smile, Brian grinned a little at him before nodding triumphantly at Arthur. He stuck out his chin and outstretched his hand which Francis grasped and shook.

"That's a funny name you got there, Francis. Where're you from?"

"London, funnily enough, Brian." There was another unsettling silence as Gareth's scathing tone came across the room although he smiled pleasantly, "We know how you don't like us 'foreigners', don't we? Now, don't you visit your Mum on a Sunday? You best be off."

Angus smirked a little but most of the room was in shock as the second eldest brother simply grinned before shrugging and taking a sip of his tea. Brian clicked his tongue behind his teeth before smiling a little at the Welsh boy but it was obvious that he wanted to reach across and punch him in the face.

"Yeah...Yeah, okay." he turned to face their Mother, "I'll be off. See you soon love."

As if to irritate the Brother further he pressed his lips to her own and passionately kissed her where she stood. Right in front of the dinner table. Francis looked away a little uncomfortably and saw Eoghan splutter and choke on his tea as he tried to bang on his chest. They pulled away slowly and a little grin was prominent on Brian's face as he grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter and left, their Mother watched as he left before turning to them with an expression of anger on her face.

"What was that for?" she hissed at Gareth, who gave a sigh and nodded at a spare chair with raised eyebrows.

"Just sit down, Mam."

"What makes you think you can talk to Brian like that? He's the Father of my baby, he's been so good to me, Gareth!" Angus rolled his eyes and appeared at her side, placing careful hands over her forearms and pulling her over to the table with a small smile on his face, she looked at him a little confusedly as he sat her down and went back over to the work top to grab her pancake and put it in front of her. She blinked at it for a minute before shaking her head,

"Don't want it," she murmured. Angus' eyebrow twitched a little as he went back to the kettle, boiling it yet again.

"Tea or coffee?" She shook her head again before picking at the tablecloth that had been laid down with extreme care, Eoghan's eyes flickered between his Mother and the oldest brother as if he was worried that they were about to spark up world war three. Angus wasn't one to be lenient towards their Mother in any way, he always seemed to act more bitter towards her than the others, Gareth said it was because she used to be very close with him and then began to neglect him more as she had more kids. Eoghan attempted to keep the atmosphere casual by tittering away at Arthur and Francis, asking trivial questions about stupid things that went on in school, Francis smiled and answered wholeheartedly but Arthur didn't even look at his brother and watched Angus carefully in case the Scottish boy was about to spontaneously combust on the spot.

"I want those bread things with the chocolate inside," their Mother whispered.

"We don't have any," Angus replied, slightly curtly. The woman looked up at him a little surprised before shrugging and standing up, her bump was not huge but neither was it small, she had passed the stage of vomiting and feeling nauseas and had started to glow subtly but her dark circles under her eyes and the childish expression on her face was enough to make her still look sickly.

"I'll go buy some," she murmured only to be cut off by Gareth jumping to his feet.

"I'll go," he said hurriedly, Angus gave a hearty sigh and clapped his hand on the Welsh brother's shoulder, he had started to say that Gareth should stay and finish his breakfast but the Welsh boy was already halfway up the stairs to go and get changed, so, he settled for pulling his coat on having already changed and slipping into his trainers to accompany him, not being able to stay in the room alone with their Mother and not getting riled up and angered. She watched them silently before slowly sitting back down.

Arthur shot a sideways glance at Francis, not entirely believing that about half an hour ago he felt so warm and safe. Still, he should have known better, he supposed. With another man and another child entering the household, the family life wasn't exactly ideal especially since the elder two brothers were so upset by the concept. He wasn't pleased himself, he didn't necessarily want another brother to annoy him but he started to accept the fact the child even if he wasn't so ready to accept Brian just yet. Eoghan seemed completely unphased by the whole thing and carried on as if everything was normal, he only really got uncomfortable when their Mother was hormonal and crying for no reason or when she sat down and began discussing a birth plan with them all.

He hadn't wanted the French boy to see it, he had his own problems without thinking over Arthur's as well. He was fine with bitching about his family to Francis but he never really wanted him to witness it all himself. What if he decided it was too much for him and stopped whatever they were now? After feeling so warm, Arthur didn't want to go back to the way things were, he wanted to continue waking up and feeling like that.

**((A/N: Rawr, it's so late I hope you enjoyed this chapter, even if it was a bit depressing. I'll try and update more but it's exam season at my school at the moment. Roll on controlled assessments, eh? ^^'))**


End file.
